


Beat The Wings Of Freedom

by Becstar7



Category: Thor (Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Dom/Sub, Bad BDSM Etiquette, Dom Thor (Marvel), Dom/sub, First Time, Happy Ending, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Odin (Marvel)'s A+ Parenting, Rape Recovery, Romance, Sub Loki (Marvel)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-25
Updated: 2018-12-08
Packaged: 2019-08-29 01:50:07
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 7
Words: 30,292
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16734753
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Becstar7/pseuds/Becstar7
Summary: Loki has a plan to get out of his engagement to Helblindi, King of Jotunheim. As always, it doesn't go quite the way he intended.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I'd like to acknowledge Xanthe and her amazing Dom/sub universe which has inspired so many other fics. I may have 'borrowed' a couple of terms which I believe she coined.
> 
> Please also note: This fic deals with a bad BDSM scene (not between Thor and Loki) in which the sub's safeword is deliberately ignored, i.e. rape. There will be a graphic flashback in chapter two. Please read with caution, or not at all, if this is a trigger for you.
> 
> Otherwise, please enjoy, everyone! :)

Loki struggled to his feet. Every muscle in his body was aching, and he hurt in places he’d never even suspected he could hurt. The distance to the door was five steps. Not insurmountable, but then there were all the steps between the door and his own rooms.

No. No, sanitorium first. He knew that. Why had he forgotten that?

His eyes watered a little, but he didn't cry. Maybe his first time had not been all that he’d expected, but then, that was the whole point, wasn’t it?

He was finding it hard to think. Perhaps there was more damage than he’d expected. In which case, his visit to the sanitorium was necessary for more than one reason, and sooner rather than later. He could transport himself there with his seidr – there was a room nearby which was almost always empty –

But the magic refused to come to his fingertips.

For a moment, Loki panicked. Then he remembered the collar around his neck. 

He hissed through his teeth. “ _Fool_.” 

He tried to get his fingers around the clasp, but they just slipped off. Seidr, he thought, infused into the clasp itself, preventing the wearer from removing it. Ironic, and clever. But he was an unclaimed sub, forbidden from learning the secrets of seidr. If he went out into public like this, everyone would know in a matter of hours. The only power he had would be taken from him, perhaps forever.

His only chance at freedom.

Loki’s resolve hardened. All he needed was something to cover himself – a blanket would suffice. He wrapped it around himself, pulling it up snug around his ears.

Five steps to the door. His fingers slipped a little on the door handle, but he steadied them with his other hand, and managed to press down. He was tired, that was all. He was fine. It was all fine. Once the collar was off – a good night's sleep –

“You'll be _fine_ ,” he murmured.

The hallway was quiet, but he knew he would be noticed long before he reached the sanitorium. Which was, he reminded himself, exactly what he wanted.

Still, it was a shock when a voice said, “Your Highness?”

Loki’s first instinct was to flee – to transport himself away, or turn himself invisible. He closed his eyes instead, summoning strength he wasn’t sure he had. 

“Norns below,” the voice breathed.

Loki opened his eyes again to see two palace guards gaping at him. One of them had taken a couple of steps forward, hand outstretched. _Dom_ , Loki thought, and his lip curled in a sneer. That instinctive need to protect and care for subs was something that could too easily be manipulated. Right now, however, he wanted none of it.

He drew himself up to his full, impressive height, looking down his nose. “Yes, soldier?” he snapped.

The man jerked back, and they both fell into hasty, confused bows. 

“Your Highness, deepest apologies – are you – can we –?”

“Summon Lady Sigyn,” Loki told him. “Have her attend me in the sanitorium.” He looked at the other Einherjar – the one who had known better than to dare to try to touch a sub of the Royal House of Asgard. “You will escort me there.”

They bowed again, and the first man turned and set off at a brisk run. 

Loki followed the second man at a more dignified pace, thinking longingly of his bed. The heavy weight of his blankets, surrounding him, cocooning him –

“Your Highness?”

He flinched back with a cry.

“ _Don't_ ,” said a sharp voice. “Don't touch him! Your Highness. Prince Loki. You're in the sanitorium. You're safe.”

Loki looked around wildly, heart hammering in his chest. He was – how was he in the sanitorium? Surely he couldn’t have walked all that way – past the throne room, up the great staircase –

“You're safe, Your Highness, everything's all right,” the voice continued, soothingly.

Loki realised with a mingled sense of relief and outrage that someone had fetched Healer Eir, the royal family's personal Healer. He met her eyes. “Eir,” he said. A sob welled up in his throat, and he swallowed it down. He could not afford to show weakness. The damage this was going to do to his reputation was bad enough; there was no need to compound it by turning into a stereotypical sobbing mess of a sub.

“Everyone out,” Eir said.

The two Einherjar and several junior Healers left the room. Loki ignored the wide-eyed stares and low muttering. Only once the door was closed behind them did he allow himself to take a seat on one of the beds. He cried out involuntarily, and pushed himself up again, shaking. 

“Your Highness?” Eir said, in concern. “What’s wrong?”

Loki snorted out a laugh. “Cold,” he said, pulling the blanket a little closer around himself. It didn’t seem to be helping. “I thought the Jotnar were immune to cold.”

“Shock is a biological function shared by all the races,” Eir said. “As is,” she added, carefully, “sub-drop.”

Loki stared at her. “I am _not_ in sub-drop,” he said. 

Eir sighed. “Your Highness, with all due respect, you’re half-naked and wearing a blanket. I can see the whip marks on your legs.”

“I’m not denying I’ve had sex,” Loki snapped. “But I need medical treatment, not the Dom who did this to me. And before you ask, yes, it was consensual. I’m just not the type of hysterical, weak sub who requires babying after a scene.”

Eir pressed her lips together. “The correct term is aftercare, and it’s not weak to need it. It is a natural physical and emotional reaction to the sudden cessation of the hormones released by your body during a scene. The pain you’re feeling, the cold, the disorientation and fatigue – all classic symptoms; completely normal, and nothing to be ashamed of.”

Loki glared at her, and deliberately dropped the blanket. His shivering abruptly intensified, but he held her gaze steadily. He did not need ‘aftercare’. He was a Prince of Asgard, Odinson, the most powerful seidmadr in the Nine Realms.

She sighed again. “Let me get my soul-forge, Your Highness.”

Loki waited patiently, submitting to her ministrations without complaint. She was careful not to touch him, using the soul-forge and healing stones to treat his injuries. Loki didn’t know quite why he was disappointed by that. Eir had been the royal Healer for thousands of years. She was a professional. Even when they were children, she had never touched Loki without Odin present.

Maybe there was something to her diagnosis of sub-drop, he thought. He had never craved contact like this; in fact, quite the opposite. He usually got quite enough of that from his overly-affectionate oaf of a brother.

“Here,” Eir said, quietly, and Loki jumped in surprise. He realised he’d been staring blankly at his hands for… how long? “Chocolate,” Eir said. Her voice sounded – wrong, somehow, and Loki raised his eyes to her face, curious. Her usual composure had been ruffled; she looked more upset than he’d ever seen her. Loki considered what she might have healed with her soul-forge, and decided to ignore the question entirely. “It will help.”

“Oh?” Loki said, disinterestedly. He didn’t take the chocolate.

“Please, Your Highness,” she begged. “It will increase the dopamine and oxytocin levels in your bloodstream; hormones that your body is missing right now. It will ease some of your symptoms.”

Loki considered fighting her on it, but he really was exhausted. He could barely focus on her, let alone comprehend her words. He was acutely vulnerable like this, and he didn’t like it. He knew she would never allow anyone to hurt him, or even come _near_ him in this state, but –

He needed to be better. Now.

“Very well,” he mumbled.

It tasted like cardboard, and he struggled to even swallow a small piece of it.

“… only do so much,” she was saying. “I should really call –”

“No!” Loki said, sharply, lifting his head.

“The Queen will already know, Your Highness,” Eir said, gently. “You know that. The Einherjar probably went straight from here to her chambers. Let me call your brother, at least. It’s that or you stay here overnight for observation and treatment. The best I can offer is warm blankets and a quiet place to sleep – perhaps a hot bath, if you’re so inclined. But I won’t release you unless it’s into the care of a Dom. I’m sorry.”

Loki’s hands curled into fists. “Fine,” he said. At least he should be able to manipulate his brother into letting him go. “Call Thor.”

~*~

Thor looked half-awake, almost as tired as Loki felt; his clothes pulled on hastily, eyes hooded and barely stifling a yawn behind one large hand.

Loki sneered at him. “Really, brother. You look like you just rolled out of bed.”

“I _did_ just roll out bed,” Thor pointed out, mildly. He looked at Eir, and then Loki, frowning. “What’s going on? You said to come urgently.”

Eir cleared her throat, and glanced at Loki. She didn’t say anything, but neither did she make any move to leave. Clearly she was determined that Thor knew the truth, one way or another.

Loki sighed. “As of tonight, I am damaged goods, brother.”

Thor blinked at him, his expression blank.

“I have been _defiled_ ,” Loki expounded, with a certain amount of relish. “Deflowered. Debauched. My virginity has been taken, in every possible way. I am no longer the sexually pure sub my blood-brother wants so badly to fuck.”

Thor sucked in a breath. “ _What_?” He turned to Eir. “Is that –?”

“It’s true,” Eir said. “But it's not why I called for you, Your Highness. It is quite common to experience sub-drop after a first time – especially if, as I suspect was the case here, the Dom in question provides little to no aftercare. However, this is something… more. There were several quite serious injuries. Prince Loki requested you.”

Loki stiffened, opening his mouth to add ‘ _under protest!_ ’ – but then he changed his mind. No need to antagonise Thor just yet. He needed out of the sanitorium first, after all.

Thor’s jaw tensed. “When you say serious injuries –”

“Nothing that couldn’t be fixed with the healing stones,” Loki interrupted. He gave Eir a warning look. Thor was not, technically, his Dom, which meant she couldn’t disclose confidential medical information to him. Not without Loki’s permission. “Eir is exaggerating. I’m fine, Thor.” 

Thor frowned. He knew as well as Loki did that Eir did not exaggerate. “And you requested me,” he said, slowly. “You – you _want_ me to Dom you? After –”

Loki bit down on an impolite retort. “Yes, please,” he said meekly.

“You’re shaking,” Thor observed. He moved a little closer, carefully, as if he were approaching a skittish horse. “Are you cold?”

“Better than I was,” Loki said, truthfully. Eir had sent for some clothes, and he’d wrapped the blanket around himself again, as well.

“And you can’t use your seidr to warm yourself?”

Loki stared at him in horror. Fuck. Fuck! How could he have forgotten about the collar? If Thor hadn’t reminded him – if Eir hadn’t kept everyone out of the room – “Lady Sigyn,” he said, fighting to stay calm. “Where is she? I sent for her.”

“Yes,” Eir said, calmly. “But you had no Dom present, Your Highness. She’s outside, waiting. Would you like me to bring her in now?”

Loki’s teeth ground together. “Yes, I would!” he snapped.

“Loki,” Thor said, in reprimand. 

The tone made Loki flinch, inexplicably. Thor made a soft sound in his throat, and suddenly there were strong arms around him, pulling him into the familiar embrace that Loki both loved and loathed in equal measure. There was no escape from it, and no denying how his body responded, melting into Thor’s arms, almost boneless against the broad chest. It had been his weakness for as long as Loki could remember, and Thor was not above using it to get what he wanted, on occasion.

“I’m sorry, brother,” Thor murmured, breath tickling against his ear. “You always put on such a good façade. But you’re not fine at all, are you?”

Loki contemplated lying, but he found he wasn’t quite ready to be released yet. “No,” he said, allowing himself to breathe in Thor’s scent. It was calming something that had been wound tight with anxiety ever since – well, ever since he’d found himself bound, with a seidr-dampening collar around his neck.

“Your Highness?” Lady Sigyn said, curtsying.

Loki struggled out of Thor’s arms, embarrassed to be seen in such a position, even by his dearest friend and confidante. 

“Lady Sigyn,” he said, stiffly. “I apologise for dragging you out of bed at this late hour, but I find myself in a difficult situation. The collar you see around my neck – I require your assistance to remove it. It seems to be protecting itself from me with seidr.”

Lady Sigyn’s eyes dropped to the collar, and widened. “Your Highness –?” she said, glancing uncertainly at Thor. Clearly, she was wondering if it meant what she thought it did. Collars were rarely used for casual fucks, but he certainly wouldn’t be wearing one for any other reason. Not yet, and not ever, now that he was damaged goods. 

“Please,” Thor said.

Fortunately, she knew better than to probe any further. She reached out to the collar with her seidr; a soothing, bright yellow, like sunshine and laughter. Loki was very comfortable with it, after over a millenia training together, and he relaxed into it. 

“I don’t understand,” Sigyn said, after a moment. “It’s a normal seidr-dampening collar, designed to prevent you from accessing your magic. But there’s nothing preventing you from removing it manually. Anyone could.”

Loki stared at her. He reached up to feel the clasp again, and his fingers were still a little shaky, but this time he was able to get a good grip on it and pull it apart.

His face flamed. Not seidr. Just his own damnable weakness. 

“Thank you, Sigyn,” he said. “I apologise for interrupting your rest with a fool's errand.”

She looked concerned, but with Thor and Eir present, they could not speak freely. “I am happy to be of service,” she said. “Is there anything else I may do for you, Your Highness?”

Loki shook his head. His face still burned with the humiliation of it all, and all his words seemed to have dried up. 

Thor spoke for him. “No. Thank you, Lady Sigyn.”

She bobbed another curtsy, and left. 

Almost instantly, Thor snatched the collar out of Loki's hand, and, in a fit of violence, threw it against the wall. Then he bundled him in against his side. Loki permitted it. He permitted the gentle commands (“ _Come on, I’m putting you to bed_ ”, “ _No, we're going to my room_ ,”), and he permitted the little kisses Thor pressed to his hair whenever they were out of sight of the palace guards.

He even permitted himself to be tucked into Thor's bed, but he roused himself to protest when Thor crawled in after him and tried to put his arms around him again.

“No,” he said. “I don't cuddle. You know that.”

“Loki,” Thor said, scrubbing a hand over his face. He looked almost – _heartbroken_ , which was rather too melodramatic for Loki's taste. “You’ve been _hurt_. You understand that, don't you? A good Dom would have taken care of you afterwards, and as for what he did to you _during_ –"

“That's none of your business,” Loki said.

Thor looked even more miserable at that. “I know,” he said. “Tell me who did this to you, Loki.”

Loki eyed him thoughtfully, turning onto his side and curling a hand under his cheek. “You're angry. With me?”

Thor almost tripped over his own tongue in his haste to deny it, and Loki smiled internally. Thor’s honesty was one of his most endearing traits. Loki had no choice but to protect himself with lies and subtle half-truths; he could not be himself under the oppressive label of _sub_ without them. Mastering the art of disguise in its many forms had taught him that most people lied every day, one way or another. But Thor – Thor was never less than entirely truthful, and even when he tried to hide his emotions, they always bled through somehow. Loki had developed a deep appreciation for that, over the years.

Right now, it could not be more obvious that Thor wanted to kill whoever had dared to lay hands on his baby brother, but he was restraining himself for Loki's sake. Because he thought Loki needed _aftercare_.

His lip curled. “We negotiated terms beforehand. I had a safeword. It was all consensual, brother.”

“And the collar?”

 _Ah_ , Loki thought. So Thor was jealous that he'd told someone else about his seidr. “It wouldn't have been a true surrender if I could have released myself from the restraints any time,” he said, gently.

Thor reached out to him, pausing with his fingers a fraction of an inch from Loki's face. 

Loki nodded slightly, and Thor touched his face gently. Loki sucked in a breath. He felt almost hypersensitive, like Thor's fingers were a brand, stroking fire down his face, setting his skin ablaze with sensation as he tucked a strand of hair behind Loki's face and then let his hand settle on Loki's neck, thumb tucked under his jaw.

Loki had never felt anything like it, in all the years Thor had been touching him like this. He felt _grounded_. Safe.

“You love him?”

Loki's eyes opened in surprise. His first instinct was to blurt _no, of course not_. But that would be counterproductive. Better that Thor know what he was planning. “I know what I've done,” he said, quietly, “and I'm sorry. But I could not marry one man when my heart belongs to another.”

A muscle in Thor’s jaw jumped. “I understand,” he said, and Loki was satisfied that he probably did. He knew Loki better than anyone else, after all. “Is it all right if I sleep here, or would you like me to sleep on the couch?”

Loki considered that. “Here is fine,” he decided. “But no cuddling, understood?”

~*~

Two hours later, Loki still couldn’t sleep. No matter how tightly he pulled the blankets around himself, he couldn’t get warm, and his whole body ached. It made no sense. Eir was too good at her job to leave any of his injuries untended, so why was he still sore? Why was his head pounding, despite the chocolate and rehydration drinks she’d given him?

He found his gaze drifting over to Thor again, irritated beyond belief. His brother was sound asleep, snoring softly, his face the very picture of serenity. 

He wanted Thor awake, suffering with him. Wanted Thor’s eyes on him, Thor’s hands – wanted that feeling of being grounded again. 

What was _wrong_ with him?

If this was sub-drop, he wanted no part of being a sub. What he’d endured – and then to feel _this_ afterwards – it was intolerable. Growling under his breath, he pulled and shoved at Thor, slotting himself up against that hard body. Thor didn’t wake, exactly, but he threw a heavy arm over Loki’s waist, trapping him in place. Loki scowled, but Thor was like a furnace, and warmth was spreading through him at last. 

He sighed, and felt himself relax.

He didn’t remember falling asleep, but he woke feeling well-rested and dangerously comfortable. There was a chest rising and falling beneath his ear, and arms wrapped around him. He was lying practically on top of Thor, he realised. One of his legs had fallen between Thor’s, and his thigh was pressed against –

He yelped, and tried to scramble up. Thor made a disapproving noise, and tightened his arms.

“ _Thor_ ,” Loki snapped.

“Loki,” Thor replied, sounding amused. “I thought you didn’t cuddle.”

“I don’t!” Loki said, lifting his head to glare down at him. “You’re holding me against my will!”

“Am I?” Thor asked, looking at him oddly. He lifted a hand to cup Loki’s cheek. “Are you sure, brother?”

Loki felt his heart begin to beat a little faster. He shook his head, trying to dislodge Thor’s hand. But Thor apparently took that as an invitation, and drew him closer. Suddenly, inexplicably, there were lips on his, soft and a little chapped. They pressed against his, firm and knowing, and he felt a tongue slip along his bottom lip. His whole body flushed with heat, tingles prickling across his scalp.

“ _Ah_ ,” he said, and Thor licked inside his mouth.

Loki couldn’t breathe; couldn’t think. Thor was plundering his mouth, taking him, _claiming_ him, and he was dizzy with how good it was. He pushed against Thor’s chest, increasingly desperate for air, but when Thor eased back at last, he whimpered in disappointment and tried to follow him.

“Shh,” Thor said, soothing him with gentle strokes, over his back, his face, through his hair. It felt like those huge hands were everywhere, and Loki couldn’t stop shivering. “All right, baby?”

“What are you _doing_?” Loki asked, bewildered.

“Seducing you,” Thor said, simply. His cheeks flushed a little when Loki just continued to stare at him. “Trying to,” he said, sheepishly.

“But – _why_?”

“Because I love you,” Thor said, and Loki felt as if all the air had been punched out of him. “And because our sister can’t marry you off, now. You made sure of that.”

“Yes, I did,” Loki said, remembering himself. What was he thinking? Of course Thor loved him, but not like _that_. Of course not like that. “So what makes you think I’d allow yet another sibling to entrap me?”

Thor looked hurt. “That’s not what this is.”

“No?” Loki pushed against his chest again, and this time, Thor let him up. “Any Dom who claims me owns me, Thor. Being a sub means I will be subject to the whims of another for the rest of my life.”

Thor sat up, watching him carefully. “This is about more than breaking the engagement with Helblindi-King. What are you planning, Loki?”

Loki sighed. “Is it so difficult to understand that I might want to be more than someone’s bitch, brother?”

“Loki!” Thor said, horrified. “How can you say such a thing?”

“Because it is the _truth_ ,” Loki said, with suppressed violence. “Subs exchange a parental Dom for a spousal one. We are never without ‘protection’. Never allowed to make our own decisions, or live our own lives. You know I would have suffered as Helblindi’s sub, Thor. Even in my Jotun skin, I am not compatible with the giants. Yet our own father accepted his suit. I am just a means to an end; a pretty bauble he could sell off for the right price.”

Thor’s face had whitened. “I thought – with your seidr –”

Loki snorted. “My skills do not run to body modification or healing. There are ways I might have made it more bearable, granted. But Father did not know that. And nor does Hela.”

“I didn’t know,” Thor said, numbly. “Oh, Norns. Loki – if I’d _known_ –”

“You’re missing the point,” Loki said. “I want more than survival. I want freedom.”

Thor sighed. “I want that for you, as well,” he said, quietly. “But we are Princes of Asgard. We have responsibilities. Neither of us will ever truly be free.”

“But only one of us will ever be raped in the bedroom.”

Thor flinched, his face crumpling. “Brother,” he whispered, reaching out. “Please tell me you were not truly hurt, yesterday. Tell me it really was consensual.”

Loki consented to Thor taking his hand, but did not allow him to pull him closer. His brother had a kind of irresistible magnetism to him – something that Loki had never quite been able to extricate himself from. Like a moth to flame, he was pulled back in, again and again. He could only hope that Thor did not know quite how much power he held over him, or he would never be free.

“Of course it hurt,” he said, gently. “I’m a _sub_ , Thor.”

“That doesn’t mean – Loki, tell me what he did to you!”

Loki tilted his head to one side, studying him. “Is that why you tried to seduce me? To prove you’re a better Dom? You know as well as I do that the Queen will never give me to you. As a virgin, I was far too valuable to the Realm. Deflowered, I am nowhere near good enough for the Crown Prince of Asgard. You have responsibilities, remember? It will be even more important that you marry for the good of the Realm, now.”

Thor looked mulish. “I won’t be second in line for long, if Hela marries. If we talked to her –”

“You don’t listen,” Loki snapped, losing his patience. “I don’t want a Dom! I don’t want _any_ Dom!”

Thor gaped at him. “What?”

Loki sighed. “I’m not talking about this anymore. I’m going to get dressed, and go to breakfast. No doubt I will be called before the Queen shortly, to give an account of myself.”

“Not alone,” Thor vowed, and Loki didn’t fight him on that, at least. 

He wasn’t looking forward to answering for his crime. At all.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just a quick reminder that there is a graphic flashback of rape in this chapter. Please read with caution, or not at all, if this is a trigger for you.
> 
> Otherwise, please enjoy, everyone! :)

Loki tolerated Thor’s overprotective behaviour all through breakfast, allowing him to choose where they sat, the food he ate, who he talked to. It wasn’t unusual; Odin had been a disinterested parent, and worse than casually neglectful of his duties as Loki’s parental Dom. Thor had never been a terribly observant child, but even he had not failed to notice the lack of care their father displayed towards his youngest.

He’d taken over as Loki’s unofficial Dom when they were barely out of the nursery.

Loki didn’t mind it, most of the time. Thor didn’t have any real authority over him; not like Odin, and now Hela. He just… made Loki feel safe, and cared for. Loved, perhaps.

As a brother? Or something more?

The idea plagued him through breakfast, and he didn’t know why. He was determined on his course of action. There was a whole universe out there, and more beyond that. The Nine Realms were a mere blip in the cosmos, and not even all the Nine had written the secondary gender roles into law. In fact, it was said that on Midgard, the majority of its people were monosexual _and_ non-dynamic. It sounded terribly exotic, and just the place to lose himself – if only it wasn’t on Ygdrassil’s branches, easily accessible by the Bifrost. 

But there were other worlds, other realms. He would find somewhere he could be free.

He was so close, now.

The summons to the throne room came immediately after breakfast. Thor’s jaw tightened, and he put a possessive hand on Loki’s elbow. Loki’s insides twisted unpleasantly, but he rose, grateful for Thor’s steadying hand. His legs felt like jelly.

The entire court had been assembled in the throne room, and the lines on Thor’s face deepened at the sight. He was angry. He wanted this to have been a private interview, then.

Loki knew better.

His brother stepped back when they reached the dais, hand lingering for a moment. Loki felt cold without the burning heat of his brother by his side, and he didn’t dare look up at the throne. He slid to his knees, and pressed his forehead to the floor, as was the custom for all subs presenting themselves to the Queen of Asgard.

“Loki,” she said, coldly. It wasn’t an invitation to rise. “You know why you are here, but I will repeat the charges for the court. You have been accused of a grievous crime. The loss of your honour, your reputation. You have _ruined_ yourself, just days before the wedding! You have destroyed _centuries_ of negotiations that the All-Father himself set into motion. The trade deals – the dowry and sub-price – not to mention the breaking of our oath, which could be construed as an act of war! What have you to say for yourself?”

Loki sat back on his heels, but kept his eyes lowered. 

“I can offer no excuse, Your Majesty,” he said. “Only that I am in love.”

There were gasps from the court.

“In love,” Hela echoed.

Loki bowed his head. “And with the wedding imminent – I lost my head. It was an unforgivable lapse in judgement. I know that. I know my apology is less than useless, under the circumstances, but I am truly sorry. I have dishonoured the Royal House of Asgard, and betrayed Your Majesty’s faith in me. I could not be more ashamed of myself. The weight of what I have done – I am so _sorry_.” He let his voice wobble a little, as if he were on the verge of tears. Most Doms could not resist the urge to comfort a sub in tears, and he needed every weapon in his arsenal right now, to sway the court’s opinion.

There was a short pause, and he knew his sister was studying him intently. She was much older than them, and had never had much interest in her little brothers. But after fifteen hundred years under the same roof, she knew Loki better than most.

“I am deeply disappointed in you,” she said, at last. “You have failed me, and worse, failed our people. The peace between Asgard and Jotunheim is fragile, contingent on the treaty signed long ago by the All-Father and Laufey-King. This marriage was to seal that treaty, to bring about a permanent peace. You _know_ that.”

Loki hunched his shoulders. “I do. I’m so sorry,” he whispered, letting a tear slip down his face.

Hela sighed. “You know I cannot accept your apology until you have been punished.” 

There was some grumbling from the court, but less than Loki had expected. He relaxed, carefully. There had been a risk – slight though it might have been – of execution, or life imprisonment. Neither one would have been unprecedented. 

But the lash he could bear. It would hardly be the first time.

“Fifty lashes,” Hela decided.

Loki’s heart thumped once, sickeningly, in his chest. He heard a loud gasp from behind him, and then Thor was beside him, bowing low.

“Your Majesty.”

“Prince Thor,” she acknowledged, inclining her head.

“Please,” he said. “Reconsider. Have mercy on our brother. He is a sub. Fifty lashes could kill him.”

“And his actions could cause the deaths of _hundreds_ of thousands, on both sides of the Bifrost,” Hela said, harshly. “I do not speak of war lightly, brother. Loki’s reckless, thoughtless actions may have destroyed _everything_ the All-Father and I have worked so hard to build.”

“I understand,” Thor said. “But let me take his punishment in his place.”

Loki bit down on an instinctive protest. As much as every fibre of his being railed against being treated like some kind of delicate, breakable object, he did not have the right to interrupt a discussion between Doms. Not even Doms discussing _his_ future.

“No,” Hela said, and Loki felt relief flood him. That she believed he could take it, of course. Not that Thor would be spared the lash. “You are not his Dom, Thor. It would not be appropriate.”

“Half, then!” Thor said, urgently. “Let me take half! _Please_ , Your Majesty!”

There was another, longer pause. Finally, Hela said, “No. I’m sorry, brother. But out of deference for your concern, I will allow you to be present, and to choose the instrument.”

Loki heard Thor suck in a breath, no doubt in preparation for another argument. He reached out, touching his foolish brother’s ankle lightly. “Thank you, Your Majesty,” he said. “You have been more than generous. I cannot adequately express my regret to you, nor my gratitude for allowing me this opportunity to serve justice for what I’ve done.”

“Then it is a rare day indeed,” Hela said wryly, “that the Silvertongue’s tongue fails him.”

~*~

He was not particularly hungry, at luncheon. Thor forced him to eat something light, though Loki could not have said what it was, or even what it tasted like. He did notice, however, that his brother did not eat anything himself.

“Do you think Hela believed me?” he asked, idly spinning his mug of mead.

Thor glanced around, his expression hunted. “ _Shh_ ,” he hissed. “By all the Nine, Loki, do you want fifty increased to a hundred? Because that’s what the Queen will do, if she even _suspects_ you weren’t completely honest with her!”

Loki waved his concern away. “It’s a pretty excuse, for the court,” he said. “Romantic drivel she can use to appease the masses. Surely she knows me better than to actually _believe_ I’m in love.”

Thor’s eyes narrowed. “ _I_ know you better,” he corrected him. “But you are an accomplished liar, brother.”

“Thank you,” Loki said.

Thor sighed. “That wasn’t a – never mind. Just keep up the ruse until after your punishment, all right? Fifty lashes is more than enough.”

Loki shuddered involuntarily. “It’s not you taking them,” he pointed out.

“Oh yes, it is,” Thor said, firmly. “You’re going to illusion me in your place.”

_Oh_. Loki stared at him. “That’s,” he said, faintly, “very condescending, actually.”

Thor scowled. “You’re _mine_ , Loki. As soon as enough time has passed – as soon as our people and Jotunheim are appeased, and the furore has died down – I’m going to claim you. With – with your consent, I mean.” He flushed slightly, but continued on, determined, “Which means it’s my prerogative to take this punishment for you.”

“Thor,” Loki said, patiently, “our sister will never allow it. You know that.”

Thor set his jaw. “We’ll just have to convince her. I love you, Loki. I have for – for forever.”

“Very eloquent,” Loki mocked, gently. He was careful not to let any of the inner turmoil he felt show on his face. Norns, what was Thor thinking? They were _brothers_. Unlike Helblindi, Thor had actually grown up with him. Seen him cry over a thorn stuck in his finger, seen him gangly and clumsy in his adolescence, nursed him through his first heat-sickness. Teased him relentlessly after walking in on him masturbating. Commiserated with him when it became clear he was a sub, not a Dom like his two elder siblings. Covered for him whenever it looked like one of his pranks might be discovered. “I love you, too. But that doesn’t mean I’m going to let you put me on my knees.”

“Doesn’t mean you’re not, either,” Thor said.

Loki pressed his lips together, annoyed. Sometimes he would really prefer that Thor not know him so well.

“But there is time yet to discuss our relationship,” Thor said. “I need your word you will let me take your place, Loki.”

Loki almost shook his head, but changed his mind at the look on Thor’s face. Well, what did a little white lie matter? Thor wasn’t actually his Dom, no matter how much he might wish to be. “All right,” he said. “You have my word.”

Thor looked almost painfully relieved. “Thank you, sweetheart,” he said earnestly. “Now, eat.”

Loki raised his eyebrows pointedly at Thor’s empty plate, but Lady Sif hailed his brother from across the table, and he had no opportunity to return the sentiment.

He regretted it, later, when he walked into the punishment room to find Lord Tyr waiting for him.

Thor was right on his heels, and almost ran into him as he stopped. “Loki?” he said, hesitantly.

“Your Highnesses,” Tyr said, bowing. He held Loki's gaze. He was the God of Law and Justice, and, as the Queen's right-hand, he had meted out Loki's punishments several times in the past. She couldn’t do it herself, although Loki was sure she would be here to watch.

“Thor,” he said, before he’d even realised he’d opened his mouth.

“Just a moment,” he heard Thor say, to Tyr, before he was being guided out of the room again, Thor’s hand in the small of his back. “Brother, what is it? Did you forget the illusions?”

“No,” Loki said, blankly. “I thought I could take it.”

Thor was silent for a moment, and then he sighed. “We’ll talk about that later,” he said, “but right now, why don’t you tell me what changed your mind? You’ve been flogged before. You know the instruments. You know the –” He cut himself off. “ _Tyr_? Tyr was the one who –”

Loki couldn't unstick his tongue from the roof of his mouth. He just nodded. He was being irrational, he knew. Fifty lashes was daunting. The man who wielded the lash was irrelevant.

“I’m going to fucking _kill_ him,” Thor said, furiously.

“No,” Loki said, panicking at the idea of Thor confronting the older Dom. “No, I’m sorry. I’m sorry!”

“Hey,” Thor said immediately, attention back on him. He cupped Loki’s face in his large hands. “I'm sorry, Loki. I’m just angry. What he did to you –"

“Made love to me,” Loki said.

Thor's brows drew together. “That was not the reaction of a sub to a Dom who made love to him,” he said darkly. “Loki, it was his duty, his _privilege_ , to take care of you. I might not know the details of what went on between you, but I _know_ he failed you. It’s not your fault. Any of it. Okay, sweetheart?”

Loki considered telling him that he had it all backwards, but he couldn’t bear to see the disappointment in his brother's eyes. Besides, Tyr was in there, waiting for him, and he just needed this _over_. 

“Okay,” he said. “Thor, I – I can’t do it. I’m sorry.”

Thor pulled him close, and Loki let himself be embraced, hating that he was allowing himself to take comfort from his brother in this moment. He was manipulating Thor into taking fifty lashes for a crime he’d committed for the sole purpose of making his escape. From Asgard. From _Thor_.

“… it’s all right,” Thor was murmuring. “Put your illusions on us. And don’t watch. That’s an order, sweetheart. He’s not your Dom. He’s never going to touch you again. You’re mine, and this is my punishment to bear. Understood?”

Loki bit his lip, fighting the urge to cry. How could he let Thor do this for him? And yet – and yet he couldn’t bring himself to face Tyr. He was _pathetic_. A failure as both brother and sub. 

“Loki. Answer me, baby. Is that understood?”

Loki swallowed down the tears, and nodded against his brother’s chest.

~*~

Thor barely made a sound during the entire ordeal.

Loki gave him red eyes and tears, after an appropriate number of lashes. The Queen was indeed present to bear witness to her sentence being carried out, and she’d seen Loki flogged before. She knew how much he could take before breaking.

He had intended to watch each and every lash, but he found himself reluctant to disobey his brother again. Instead, he found himself watching Hela’s face.

In the past, he’d been too preoccupied with the lash against his back to notice his guardian Dom. But her eyes – she was enjoying this, he realised. Maybe she was angrier than he had supposed at his misdemeanour. With good reason, admittedly, although he couldn’t regret what he’d done.

Tyr, on the other hand –

He was _relishing_ the opportunity to lay his whip against Loki’s back, for the second time in as many days. 

Loki’s heart began to race. He wanted to leave, to _run_ , as far and as fast as he could, to forget his carefully-laid plan and just _go_ –

Thor grunted, and Loki's eyes flew to his brother. He relaxed when he saw Thor was looking back at him. Grateful, he held Thor’s gaze for the remainder of the lashes. Even when the pain had to be almost unbearable, even when he flinched as each lash fell over previously broken skin, Thor didn’t look away.

Loki took strength from that.

The last few were the worst. Sweat was trickling down Thor’s face, and he cried out several times. Loki was infuriated to see that Tyr had cut deeper than before, criss-crossing the marks. Blood was flowing freely down his back.

“Apologies, Your Majesty,” Lord Tyr murmured, bowing in Hela’s direction. He brushed his hand over Thor’s flank, and Thor flinched.

“ _Don’t_ ,” Loki snapped involuntarily, moving forward. 

Tyr looked at him, and bowed. Loki almost stumbled in surprise, and he cursed himself inwardly. Tyr thought he was Thor, that was all. He was just paying him the respect Thor was owed.

It was disconcerting, to help his own body to stand. But Thor was steady on his feet, and he made a courteous enough bow to the Queen, and then Tyr.

“Your sentence is served,” Hela said, her face impassive. “You are forgiven, brother.”

“Thank you, Your Majesty,” Thor said.

She departed first, and then Tyr, but not before the man stopped in front of Thor, reaching out a hand. 

“Loki?” he said.

Thor met his gaze steadily, and there was no disguising the anger burning in his borrowed eyes. “Our association is at an end, my lord,” he said, softly. “You would do well to remember how I am to be addressed. I advise you leave, now, before my brother does something we’ll all regret.”

Tyr glanced at Loki, and inclined his head. “No disrespect intended, Your Highnesses,” he said. “Just doing my duty to Queen and the Realm.”

Loki felt his lip curl in a sneer, but he didn’t trust himself to speak. He’d given power over himself to this man, and the balance between them had shifted. He was – he was _afraid_.

He escorted Thor to the sanitorium, scolding himself inwardly the whole way. Thor was the one who had been hurt. He was being absurd.

Healer Eir was waiting for them. Healing was out of the question, of course, but she could wash the wounds, and give him antibacterial medicine to prevent infection. Loki’s illusions were usually good enough to fool even her, but he could tell she suspected the switch, this time. She was gentle with Loki, and clicked her tongue at Thor when he grumbled at the pain.

Loki kept his arms crossed over his brother’s broad chest, staring at the floor. When Eir recommended that Thor remain in the sanitorium for several hours for observation, he took the opportunity to excuse himself.

He threw up the contents of his stomach before he’d even passed the threshold of his bathroom.

Wiping his mouth, he stared at the mess, and felt his stomach heave again.

“Fuck,” he swore, between retches. He hadn't felt this miserable in a long, long time. All he could think about was Thor’s blood, weeping from injuries that should have been Loki’s. 

That _were_ Loki’s, just last night.

_“You’re tight,” Tyr said, sounding surprised, and then pleased. Fingers scissored inside him, thick and rough. Loki bit back a cry. “I would have laid good odds on your prized virginity being another one of your lies.”_

_Loki shook his head, opening his mouth. Tyr cuffed him gently across the back of his head, tutting._

_“That wasn’t a question, child.”_

_Loki’s vision swam for a moment. He turned his head to one side, resting his overheated cheek against the cool table. The flogger was just inches from his nose. There was dried blood on the end, and Loki focused on that, just trying to breathe._

_“Going to feel so good around my cock,” Tyr crooned, pulling his fingers out and lining himself up. He began to push in, and Loki panicked._

_“Stop!” he cried. “It’s not enough – I’m not –”_

_Tyr paused, sighing. “I know this is your first time, Your Highness, but I confess I didn't think you'd be such a slow learner.”_

_Loki flinched. “I'm sorry,” he said. “I –”_

_“I didn't say you could talk,” Tyr said. “Norns below! I'm a patient man, child, but you are trying even my forebearance. First you try to safeword out of your whipping, and now you want me to stop before we even get to the whole point of the evening? You asked for this, remember? This is how it’s done. Good subs bear the pain for their Doms. You want to be good for me, don’t you? You want your Dom to be pleased with you?”_

_His voice had softened, and Loki felt a hand in his hair, stroking. He took a shaky breath, and nodded, once._

_“Good,” Tyr said, and thrust._

_Loki screamed. “Mjolnir!”_

_“Fuck,” Tyr snarled. “No! That’s not how this works.” He pulled back, and thrust again. “You don’t just safeword out of this!” Fire was streaking up Loki’s spine; agony like he’d never felt before. “You take it, like a good sub. You embrace the pain. You’re making your Dom feel so good. You want that.” He thrust again. “Say it! You want my cock!”_

_Loki gritted his teeth. Desperate, hoping maybe Tyr would slow down, or maybe it would work, maybe he was right, he just had to embrace the pain – he cried, “I want it. Please! I want your cock.”_

_Tyr laughed, and kept laughing._

~*~

“Loki? Loki! Brother, wake up!”

The voice seemed to be coming from a long way away. Loki frowned. His head was pounding, and his mouth was dry and sticky.

“Loki,” the voice pleaded.

“Mmph,” Loki said, irritably. His head hurt, and Thor was too loud. Thor was always too loud. He remembered criss-crossed whip marks over his brother’s back, blood flowing freely, and Tyr laughing. His eyes flew open. “ _Thor_.”

“Loki!” Thor’s face loomed over his, and Loki jumped in shock. Huge, familiar hands cupped his face. “Are you all right, brother? What happened?”

“Get _off_ , you oaf,” Loki snapped, pushing at him. “What the fuck are you doing out of the sanitorium?”

“Checking up on you,” Thor said, not at all perturbed by his attitude. “Eir released me when your illusion fell. There was a junior Healer present, but she's sworn him to secrecy.” Loki opened his mouth, but Thor preempted him. “I'm _fine_ , Loki. No symptoms of shock, and the pain is manageable. Will you tell me now why I found you passed out in a pool of your own vomit?”

Loki’s nose wrinkled as he registered the smell. “Oh Norns,” he said. No wonder his mouth tasted like the backside of a bilgesnipe. He struggled to his feet, bracing himself against the wall instead of taking Thor’s proffered hand. “I need a bath.”

“I wasn’t going to say anything,” Thor teased, and Loki scowled at him. “Seriously, brother. What happened?”

“Nothing,” Loki said. “I’m fine. You’ve checked up on me. You can go now.”

“I don't have anywhere to be,” Thor said, and followed him into the bathroom.

Loki stopped, staring at him. “What are you _doing_?”

“Making sure you don’t drown in your tub,” Thor said, reasonably. “You fainted, Loki. Until I know why, I’m not letting you out of my sight.”

“I didn’t _faint_ ,” Loki said, outraged. “And you are not staying while I take my bath! What am I, five hundred?”

“Give or take a thousand years,” Thor said, agreeably. He began to bustle around the room, fetching Loki’s favourite towel to hang over the warmer, opening several bottles of bath soap, and setting the water running. He dimmed the lights, and Loki felt his shoulders loosen slightly. He hadn’t realised how much the light was hurting his eyes. “There,” Thor said. “I think this one.” He poured a bottle into the steaming water, and the scent of passionflower filled the air.

“It’s not an aphrodisiac, you know,” Loki said. “Contrary to the name.”

Thor glanced at him. “I know,” he said. Loki huffed. Frankly, he'd have _preferred_ it if it was an attempt at seduction. “Come on. Undress for me.”

Loki flushed hot, and then cold. He’d been naked in front of Thor too many times to count, but never before had he felt like this. This strange mix of excitement and fear and anticipation and _terror_. “I’m not – I can’t –”

“Loki?” Thor frowned.

Loki felt like he’d been on the verge of a panic attack for two days. Tears gathered in his eyes, and he tried to blink them away. He was _stronger_ than this. He didn’t vomit and then _faint_ at a bad memory. He didn’t panic over his brother seeing him naked. “I’m sorry,” he said. “I don’t know what –”

“Hey,” Thor said, and opened his arms.

Loki didn’t let himself think about it; he walked into his brother’s chest, and tucked his head in Thor’s shoulder, letting Thor fold his arms around him. Oh Norns, he’d needed this; needed the comfort of his brother’s embrace, his unconditional love and acceptance. 

But that love and acceptance was based on a lie, wasn't it? And Thor did not deserve to be left thinking about _what might have beens_ , when Loki fled.

“You don’t want me,” he said, voice cracking. “I’m a fucking awful sub.”

Thor stiffened. “Did Tyr tell you that?” he asked, voice rumbling softly in his chest. His hands were gentle on Loki's back. Loki pressed himself closer, wanting more of the vibration of Thor's voice through his own body.

“He didn’t have to. I did everything wrong. I didn’t like the pain. I tried to stop him. You would have been ashamed of me.” He realised tears were running down his cheeks, and tried surreptitiously to rub them away on Thor’s tunic.

“You tried to stop him?” Thor asked, very evenly.

Loki braced himself to be rejected. That was what he wanted, after all. That was _why_ he was telling Thor the truth. “Yes,” he said. “With my seidr, the first time. We were trying without the collar – but he forgave me for that. It was – it was just instinct. But then – I tried to use my safeword. Twice.”

“Tried,” Thor repeated.

“It hurt,” Loki explained. “I didn’t know how – I couldn’t embrace it. I just endured. That’s not what you want in a sub. That’s not what you deserve.”

Thor was silent, and Loki let himself bask in the last few moments left to him of his brother’s love. It was only when Thor’s shoulders began to shake that he realised something was wrong.

Alarmed, he lifted his head. “Thor?”

His brother was _crying_. Loki stared, transfixed with horror.

“I’m so sorry,” Thor said. “Oh Norns, Loki, I’m so sorry. We’ve – _I’ve_ failed you. You’re not a fucking awful sub, do you hear me? He’s a fucking awful Dom, and I am so sorry I wasn’t there, and I am so sorry I didn’t teach you how a good Dom should behave. It’s all my fault. I’m so sorry.”


	3. Chapter 3

Loki rejected the idea that Thor was to blame for any part of his liaison with Lord Tyr. He had been plotting his escape from Asgard for years. That Tyr had approached him was just good timing. If not Tyr, then it would have been one of the many other Doms who had eyed Loki up over the centuries.

He was attractive, he knew that. He’d also learned his lessons well, even if he wasn't a particularly dutiful sub. But then, that had never been required of him, from Odin or Hela.

He could dance, and sing, and weave. He could compose and recite poems of the daring deeds performed by Doms. He could listen attentively to the most boring of Hela’s political enemies for _hours_ just to glean that one, vital piece of information to use against them.

Doms always did underestimate him. They called him Silvertongue, but they looked at him and wondered what it would be like to silence that tongue with their cock. They never considered that he might be giving them pretty words not just to tease or flirt, but to manipulate them for his Dom's ends.

“Thor,” he said, lifting his hands to his brother’s face. He used his thumbs to wipe away the tears. “Don’t be mawkish. You _know_ I’m a terrible sub. You’ve been scolding me for my many faults ever since we were in short clothes.”

Thor bristled. “Your faults are irrelevant. Using your safeword was _not_ a failing on your part. That’s what it’s _for_. To be used. To protect you.”

Loki sighed. This was not going as he'd planned, and he’d had enough. If Thor refused to play his part, then Loki would just have to come up with another way to show him they were incompatible. “I’m taking that bath now,” he said pointedly. “Stay or leave, I don’t care, but we’re not talking about this anymore.”

Thor’s jaw worked. “Loki,” he said, and then stopped himself. “All right. I’ll go. But I’ll be waiting for you right outside, okay? Call me if you need anything.”

“What would I need?” Loki asked, rhetorically.

Thor didn’t reply, but he grabbed Loki’s head and pressed a wet, smacking kiss to his temple. Loki batted him away, growling, and Thor grinned at him.

It didn't reach his eyes.

He closed the door behind him, and Loki strained his ears, listening to the soft rustling of Thor moving around the next room. Part of him was afraid that Thor would decide to leave, after all, but then there was a familiar thump; his graceless oaf of a brother throwing himself down in front of the fire.

Loki let out the breath he didn’t realise he’d been holding.

He touched his temple, but couldn't quite bring himself to rub away the kiss. He could still feel the pressure of those soft lips, the scratch of Thor’s beard, the strength in his hand as he held Loki’s head close.

“Fool,” he murmured, and stripped off his clothes to climb into his bath. It was the perfect temperature, filled to the brim with sweet-smelling bubbles, and he sighed. Everything was just right – everything but – 

“Thor,” he called.

He heard the sudden scrambling from next door, and smiled to himself. Thor burst into the room a moment later, looking worried. “Brother? Are you all right?”

“I’m fine,” Loki said, stretching out languidly in the hot water. “I changed my mind. I want you to wash my hair.”

Thor broke into a wide smile, surprised and delighted. “Really?”

Loki gave him a flat stare. “It has vomit in it. I’m not touching it.”

Thor chuckled. “It will be my pleasure, brother.”

Loki didn’t believe that at all, but he was content to let Thor do the work, rinsing and lathering and massaging and then rinsing again. He closed his eyes, just enjoying Thor’s fingers in his hair, and deliberately shutting out any memories of the night before.

“I love taking care of you like this,” Thor murmured, in his deep voice. “I love it when you let me take care of you. You’re so beautiful, brother.”

Loki felt inexplicable tears spring to his eyes. “Don’t,” he said, struggling up. He pushed Thor’s hands away from his hair. “ _Don’t_.”

Thor looked hurt, but he didn’t argue. “I’m sorry,” he said, quietly. “Are you ready to get out? I can rinse you off, if you want.”

Loki frowned. “Very well,” he agreed. “But no more sentimental nonsense, understood?”

Thor raised his hands. “You have my word,” he said. He set about his task, using the showerhead to wash away the soap suds. His hands were gentle and possessive on Loki’s skin, and Loki let his eyes close again. This was a thousand times better than bathing alone, and he wondered why they’d never done it before. “We can talk about how you lied to me about letting me take your punishment today, instead.”

Loki’s heart lurched. “Immaterial, isn’t it?” he said. “Given the end result.”

Thor wrapped one hand around the side of Loki’s neck, fingers threading through his wet hair. 

Loki’s eyes snapped open, and he glared at his brother. “If you fry my hair –”

Thor smiled slightly. “I wouldn’t dare, after last time." Loki relaxed, cautiously. His wrath had indeed been proportional to the crime, and the punishment likewise. Perhaps Thor had learned his lesson, at last. “But lying to me is not immaterial. I love you, Loki. I want to take care of you, but I can’t if you won’t tell me the truth.”

Loki jerked away, ire rising again. “I said no more sentiment!” he snapped. “Don’t you listen?”

“Of course I do,” Thor said, calmly. “And I gave you my word. Doesn’t feel good, does it? Being betrayed so?”

Loki stared at him for a moment, stunned. It was not often that his brother managed to get one over him. Silently, he stepped around Thor, out of the bath. He grabbed his towel off the warmer and rubbed himself down vigorously, wrapping it around his waist. He walked into the other room, Thor on his heels. 

Loki ignored him, determined not to give him any ground. He was _not_ Thor’s sub, and he owed him _nothing_.

Thor sighed. “Don’t be angry, sweetheart. Please. I just want to talk.”

Loki turned to him, arms crossed over his chest aggressively. “So talk.”

“All right,” Thor said, slowly, clearly considering his words. It was enough to make Loki give him his full attention. “Not all subs like pain. Some do. Many do, in fact. The body releases endorphins in response to the pain – it gives them a rush. It’s an easy way to drop into subspace. Sometimes it’s solely about pleasure; more often it’s about catharsis. But it’s not the only way to find release. There’s only one right way, Loki – and that’s what feels good, for _both_ of you. Not all Doms are sadists, or rapists. Most aren’t.”

Loki froze. 

“Get out,” he said, over the pounding in his ears. When Thor didn’t move, he exploded. “GET OUT!” he screamed, and used his seidr to throw Thor out of the room, slamming the door in his face.

~*~

He didn’t leave his room for a week.

It was easy to do. He was supposed to be recovering, which meant no one expected to see him out and about. The servants left his meals on a small, wheeled trolley outside his door. Eir knew he had no need of her skills, and did not disturb him.

Thor tried to visit him, of course; several times. Loki refused to even open the door to him.

The preparations for the Fall Festival were in full gear, and the Palace was a hive of activity. Loki sat out on his balcony during the day, and watched the city below.

He felt a little nostalgic, now the time for his departure was drawing near.

He had many good memories of that city. In fact, one of his very favourite was the first Fall Festival he’d ever attended. Thor had just come of age, and he’d been given permission to go unattended. Loki had never even been outside the Palace, at that point, but he’d begged Thor to take him with him. He’d been practicing seidr for well over three hundred years by that point, and he’d taken a risk, and told Thor everything.

Instead of dragging him in front of Odin All-Father, Thor had not only kept his secret, but taken him out into the city, with Loki illusioned as a young lady.

He smiled involuntarily, remembering that Thor had tried to kiss him under the stars. Loki had slapped him, just as Lady Sif and the Warriors Three happened by. Thor had not lived _that_ down for centuries.

He sighed, and resolved not to think about his brother anymore.

It was two days before the festival that Lady Sigyn knocked on his door. 

She was a welcome, if unexpected, visitor. As a collared sub, Sigyn had slightly more freedom than her unclaimed counterparts. She’d been lucky in her Dom, of course. Bragi was sweet, and naïve, and had no interest in the politics of court other than to make sure his sub was happy. 

Still, it was unusual, and edging on inappropriate, for her to visit him in his rooms.

“Good evening,” Loki greeted her, raising a quizzical brow. “I wasn’t aware we had an assignation tonight.”

She didn’t blush, far too well acquainted with his humour and snide insinuations to mind either. “Your Highness,” she said, bobbing a little curtsy. “May I come in?”

He made a show of looking up and down the hallway. “Quickly,” he agreed. “You don’t want to be seen entering my chambers, you know. My reputation is in tatters.”

She smiled. “Yes. Should I offer my condolences, or congratulations?”

Loki shut the door behind her. “Oh, congratulations, certainly,” he drawled.

“Then congratulations,” she said, genuinely. She lifted a hand, and Loki nodded, permitting the touch. It was frowned upon, of course, and she would never do so unless they were alone, but she was his only real friend. He had missed her, in his self-imposed exile. He supposed he would have to get used to that, in the very near future. 

“I mean that,” she said. “I’m so happy for you. You were very brave, to do what you did.”

Loki raised an eyebrow. “Weren’t you at court? I’m in love, Sigyn.”

She blinked. “Oh, yes. Very convenient timing, Your Highness.”

“Wasn’t it, though?” Loki smiled. He took a seat by the fire, and waved his hand at the one opposite. “If you must know, I trusted him.” He carefully did not think about what Thor had implied about that trust. “I was also reasonably certain our Queen would forgive me.”

Sigyn settled in the other armchair, arranging her skirts around herself. “Speaking of which, how are you recovering? You look well.”

Loki shrugged, “I’m fine. Thor insisted on taking my place.”

“Oh,” she breathed. “I did wonder – there’s been a rumour that the Crown Prince hasn’t been seen in the training yard for a week. We assumed he was spending his time here, tending to you.”

Loki bit his lip. He didn’t want to ask, but –

“I’ve seen him at meals, every day,” Sigyn said, unprompted. “And Bragi says he’s been attending Council meetings. He’s well.”

Loki nodded, relieved. “He was pleased, too, when he realised what I’d done,” he offered. “After he’d worked through his anger, that is. He wants to collar me, Sigyn.”

She didn’t look nearly as surprised as he’d thought she’d be. “That’s wonderful,” she said warmly. “But – will the Queen allow it?”

“Probably not,” Loki said. He shook his head. “But it doesn’t matter. I’m not going to be here long enough to find out.”

Sigyn frowned. “You’re not – but the wedding was supposed to be days ago. There are rumours that the Queen might have to go to Jotunheim personally to smooth it all over.” Loki winced. His sister would not be pleased about that. She was not fond of the Jotnar. Sigyn's eyes widened. “Unless –” 

“No,” Loki said. “I wish her every success, but I have no intention of ever meeting my blood-brother in person, let alone letting him collar me. Besides, his people would never accept a ruined sub for their King-Consort. Even if he still wants me, it would be political suicide.”

Sigyn hesitated, playing with the delicate, braided collar around her neck. It was a nervous habit, and Loki deplored it. He had decided long ago that he would never be so dependant upon a piece of fabric. “Bragi says there have been Jotun sighted in Asgard. The Council thinks it’s nonsense, but, Loki… you and I both know there are hidden paths between the worlds.”

“Yes,” Loki agreed, frowning. “Several between Asgard and Jotunheim, in fact. But it would be foolish to use any of them right now. The worlds are not in a safe alignment.”

“You could do it,” Sigyn said. “And it is said that Helblindi-King has several powerful sorcerer-runts in his employ. If he were desperate enough – or angry enough –”

Loki felt a frisson of fear go down his spine. “None of them could hold a candle to me, and you know it,” he said. “Even if there were five or six, working together, the most they could safely send through would be two or three. I won’t let him take me, Sigyn. I’m leaving. I’m taking Mimir’s Path to Midgard.” 

“Mimir’s Path,” she echoed.

“It opens on the day of the Fall Festival. There will be minimal guard presence in the palace. I’ll be able to slip away easily.”

“And go to Midgard,” she repeated, blankly.

“There are dozens of hidden paths I can take from there,” Loki explained. He’d planned it meticulously. He knew exactly when and where they all opened, and had alternate several routes mapped out, in case he failed to reach his first choice in time. After all, he’d never been to Midgard. He had no idea of the distances involved, nor the methods by which he might need to cross those distances. “Some even to worlds beyond the branches of Ygdrassil. I will be _free_ , Sigyn, in a matter of days.”

~*~

She tried to talk him out of it, of course. Sigyn was content with her lot in life, and although she shared his feelings in regard to the systemic oppression of subs, she did not chafe under the same restrictions. Her Dom allowed her to work; she was one of the Queen's shieldmaidens, a powerful and respected seidkona.

She would never understand what it was like to be told he was nothing but a pretty face to please a foreign king. That his fate would be to kneel at the feet of power, whilst never holding any of his own.

Oh, the people bowed to him. He had servants to wash his clothes and serve his meals, and guards to protect him. But true power would always be just out of his grasp. 

At least out there, among the stars, he would have power over himself. He could make his own decisions; control his own fate.

“But what about Thor?” Sigyn asked, pleadingly.

“Thor is a Dom,” Loki said. “He seeks to put me on a leash, like all the rest.”

“He loves you,” Sigyn countered.

Loki looked at her sharply. “Have you been talking to him?”

“Of course not,” Sigyn said. “Loki, I have known both of you from childhood. Your worlds have always revolved around each other. The way he looks at you – the way he’s always so focused on caring for you, pleasing you – I think he has been in love with you for a very long time.”

Loki frowned. “Thor couldn’t hide that from me. He wears his heart on his sleeve.”

She smiled. “I don’t think he’s ever tried to hide it, exactly. You’ve just never been particularly perceptive about his feelings for _you_.”

Insulted, Loki snapped, “I’m well aware that he loves me. And it's become evident he wants to bed me, as well. But what you're talking about is quite different.”

“Yes, it is,” Sigyn agreed.

Loki stared at her, hard. “It doesn't matter,” he decided, at last. “I've made up my mind. I’m going to Midgard. Thor will be fine. In time, he’ll find another pretty sub to warm his bed, and forget all about me.”

“I don’t think that’s true, Your Highness,” Sigyn said, but she rose when Loki waved a hand at her in dismissal. She curtsied, and started to move towards the door.

Loki stood, abruptly. “Sigyn,” he said, and she turned. “I do appreciate your concern.” She smiled slightly, inclining her head. “And – I have one question, before you go. If it’s not too much trouble.”

“Of course,” she said immediately, looking concerned.

He waved a hand. “It’s not important. A small matter of contention, between my brother and I. Just – if a sub uses their safeword in a scene, who is at fault? The Dom or the sub?”

Sigyn blinked. “Neither,” she said, cautiously. “It’s not a question of blame at all. Subs find pleasure and release in giving ourselves over to our Doms, but that power exchange comes with responsibilities – on both sides. The safeword protects us both.”

“From?” Loki prompted.

She frowned, puzzled. “The physical and emotional consequences of a scene going too far. There are always boundaries, in any relationship. There must be. Even for partners who have been together for centuries, like Bragi and I – it’s always important to have that safeguard in place, to stop unintentional violations. It would be devastating, for both involved.” 

“So… if a Dom were to ignore the safeword?”

Her expression changed. “Loki,” she said, horrified, eyes snapping to his. “Don’t tell me –”

“Theoretically, of course,” Loki interrupted.

She reached out and grasped the back of a chair, shaking. “Theoretically,” she echoed, staring at him. “Loki – theoretically – you –”

“No,” Loki lied. “My first experience was a good one, fortunately. Your imagination is running riot today, my lady. I think I should bid you good night.”

“Of – of course, Your Highness,” she murmured, bobbing another curtsy. “I’m sorry.”

Loki nodded, and saw her out. He could tell she didn’t believe him, but there was nothing he could do about that. Her reaction had told him everything he needed to know, and he couldn’t focus on anything but holding on long enough to get to the bathroom before he threw up again.

~*~

It was an unpleasant idea; one Loki had refused to countenance. His brother was not the sharpest sword in the armory, though he was far from unintelligent. Still, he was not a sub. Lady Sigyn, on the other hand –

He trusted her judgement. And yet, it was incomprehensible to him how he could have gotten it so wrong. 

He found himself restless, furious. He wanted to lash out. Wanted to _hurt_ someone. 

Wanted to _run_.

But it was too soon for that. He had to wait, and the waiting was going to drive him mad. 

He cast sound-proofing spells around his rooms, and set about systematically destroying everything he could lay his hands on. Furniture, pictures, clothing, books – he tore it all apart with his bare hands, and when his strength failed him, he used his seidr.

He’d only confided the knowledge of his talents to three people in his fifteen hundred years. Sigyn, who had agreed to train him; Eir, who he’d roped in to heal him after his many mistakes, and was bound by healer-patient confidentiality; and Thor.

Tyr was the fourth. Loki had volunteered the knowledge freely. Sigyn had assured him many times that when she exchanged her usual collar for the seidr-dampening one, it was an act of love. She _wanted_ that surrender; the knowledge that Bragi had complete control over their union. It was supposed to feel good. That it hadn’t – well, it wasn’t much of a leap to assume that Loki was the problem. After all, Tyr was an experienced Dom.

Loki found himself staring at himself in the mirror. His face was flushed, and there were tear tracks running down his cheeks. With a cry of rage, he smashed his fist into the glass. Blood dripping from his hand, he flung out his arm.

Every mirror in his quarters exploded.

He panted, watching his blood drip onto the floor. By using his safeword, he’d withdrawn his consent. Which meant Tyr had raped him. 

Tyr had _raped_ him.

He couldn’t stay cooped up in his rooms a moment longer. He flung open the door, and strode out, heading for the stables. He got several surprised looks from the servants and guards he passed along the way, but none accosted him. In the stables, he commanded a young, sleepy-looking boy to saddle Sleipnir, and then he was off, taking the shortest route out of the city.

It was dark already, but he rode hard, trusting Sleipnir’s sure feet and knowledge of the path. With the number of people who had seen him leave, he knew it would not be long before someone was sent to bring him back.

But with his loyal steed beneath him, and the wind rushing past his face, he felt free. It was a heady feeling, and one he was careful not to indulge in too often. He was risking everything, fleeing the palace now, with only two days to the Fall Festival.

The thought made him slow at last, reluctantly, pulling on the reins. Sleipnir whinnied, tossing her head. She wanted to keep running, as fast and as far as possible. He didn’t take her out enough.

“Sorry, girl,” he muttered, patting her sweat-slicked neck. “Norns know I don’t want to go back to my cage, either. But we don’t have a choice.”

She huffed, but let him turn her.

He’d crossed the plains of Vigridr, and was deep into Oskopnir Forest. The trees were densely packed together, and despite the bright stars overhead, he could barely see two feet in front of them.

He let Sleipnir go at her own pace, and she picked her way through the forest deliberately slowly. He didn’t attempt to hurry her, even knowing it would take them half the night to reach the city again at this pace. He wondered if Hela would put him under the lash again, or if she would confine him to his quarters, under guard.

He prayed it would be the former, but that was unlikely, given the severity of his recent punishment. 

If this cost him his escape, after everything he’d suffered –

“ _Loki_!”

He froze. Of course. Of course it was Thor who had come after him.

He was tempted to ignore him, but Thor had an uncanny sense of direction, especially when it came to finding his little brother. Loki had never been able to hide from him for long.

“I’m here,” he called, resigned.

“Loki!” Thor called back, clearly relieved. “I’m coming!”

“Well, colour me shocked and amazed,” Loki murmured. He didn’t change his course, but somehow Thor appeared next to him in the darkness, riding alongside him. “Thor,” he greeted, calmly.

Thor reached out and grasped Sleipnir’s reins, jerking them both to a halt. Sleipnir snorted, stamping her hoof in protest.

“I know,” Loki said, petting her soothingly. “He’s a big bully, isn’t he?”

“Loki,” Thor said. “Are you all right?”

Loki considered that, staring into the darkness. He had spoken of rape to his brother flippantly. It was his duty to Asgard to be married back to the Jotun royal family, after all. His consent had never been required. But – he’d _chosen_ Tyr. It was supposed to have been different. Instead, his naiveté had led to much the same result.

“No,” he said, at last. “I don’t think I am.”

Thor’s shoulders slumped. “No,” he echoed. “Will you let me help, brother?”

Loki eyed him sideways. “Do you think you can?”

Thor smiled slightly, but there was sadness in his eyes. “I can certainly try,” he said. “I know I’ve let you down, as a brother and a Dom. But I want to be here for you, now, if you’ll let me.”

“You mean you want to fuck me,” Loki said.

“Norns, no!” Thor blurted, looking horrified. “Loki, _no_. That’s the _last_ thing – look, I know I tried to – but I didn’t _know_ , then. I’m sorry. You said – but that’s no excuse. Eir told me. I just didn’t listen.”

“You listened to me,” Loki corrected him, gently.

“Which was my first mistake,” Thor agreed, heavily. “I’m sorry, brother. I’m so sorry.”

Loki sighed. “That’s not helping.”

Thor nodded. “I know, sweetheart.” He urged his own horse into a walk, and Sleipnir followed suit. “Come on. Let’s go home.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am aware that Sleipnir is a male horse in canon. I'm just of the opinion that there are far too few female characters in these films! :)


	4. Chapter 4

Loki received the summons to court early the next morning, before breakfast. Thor had slept on his couch, and he dismissed the servant with a curt nod.

“I’m coming with you,” he said, grimly.

Loki nodded silently. Dread had settled deep in the pit of his stomach sometime during the night, and he’d barely slept. His whole plan hinged on the Queen’s mercy, and she was not pleased with him right now. He fully expected to see the entire court assembled again, to witness his humiliation.

Instead, the throne room was empty but for his sister and Lord Tyr.

Loki stumbled at the sight of him, and Thor touched his elbow, steadying him. He walked beside him, the entire length of the throne room, and Loki had never been so grateful for his brother’s stubbornness.

“You weren’t invited,” Hela said, even as Loki slipped to his knees, pressing his forehead to the cold ground.

“My apologies, Your Majesty,” Thor said, bowing. “Loki is still recovering from his ordeal, and his ride last night re-opened some of the wounds. I thought it best to escort him here.”

Loki admired the way the lie slipped so glibly off his brother’s tongue. Apparently something of his own skill had rubbed off on Thor, over the past fifteen hundred years.

Hela did not seem to suspect anything. “Very well,” she said. “You may stay. You should hear this, too. Loki, you may rise.”

“Thank you, Your Majesty,” Loki said. He stayed on his knees, as was the custom, but raised his eyes to meet his sister’s.

“Our ambassador to Jotunheim has returned with good news,” she said. “Helblindi-King is still prepared to claim you as his sub. You would not be his Consort, but the treaty would otherwise be unchanged, except that he is prepared to offer us a slightly better deal on the ironwood in return for the reduction in your status. It’s extremely generous, under the circumstances.”

Loki stared at her, speechless.

“You cannot be serious!” Thor blurted. “Hela, he's a Prince of Asgard! He's our _brother_. It’s our duty to take care of him, not sell him off like _cattle_! And now, when he has risked everything to follow his heart – when he has suffered the whip for it – you propose to let Helblindi make a _concubine_ out of him? You cannot possibly be contemplating it!” 

Hela frowned. “He knows his duty to the Realm. I would hope his punishment was sufficient reminder of that. We have been offered an olive branch, and we would be fools not to take it.”

“It's madness!” Thor protested. “He is a _runt_! I don’t know how you justify it to yourself, sister, but there can be no intimacy between them; not without severe pain or injury to Loki. How can you condemn him to such a life, without even the protection of his rightful title? I did not think you so heartless!”

Hela’s eyes narrowed. “Careful, brother,” she warned.

Thor’s hands curled into fists, but he fell into a low bow. “My apologies, Your Majesty,” he said.

“Loki? What say you?” Hela asked.

Loki’s mouth was dry. He had not seen this coming, and he was terrified. “Your Majesty,” he said. “I know I have no right to ask this of you, under the circumstances. I know we need the trade deals with Jotunheim, and I know refusing his offer could lead to war. But I beg you, sister. I _beg_ you. Do not make me do this.”

She was frowning, and his heart sank. “I would not force you, brother,” she said, slowly. “But you must know your refusal puts us in a very difficult position.”

Loki began to shiver. He could feel Tyr’s eyes on him, though he had not looked in the man’s direction once. “ _Please_ ,” he whispered.

Hela drummed her fingers against the arm of her throne. “The man you claim to love; the one you ruined yourself for. You wish to be with him?”

Loki nodded, not trusting himself to speak.

“Very well,” she said. “I will not deny that this is not the result I was hoping for. But Thor is right. I am your guardian, and I have a responsibility not only to your wellbeing, but your happiness. I do wish that you had come to me before you took it upon yourself to break off the engagement in such a way, but what is done is done. As for Jotunheim… I will go myself, to tell Helblindi-King our decision.” She sighed. “We will just have to hope he is not disposed to go to war over a defiled sub. If anything, it would not be a popular political choice among his people. The Jotnar have enjoyed the fruits of peace with Asgard for the past millenia and a half. It’s possible, if we offer them enough incentive, that they will see it as a better deal than the one they were getting originally.”

“Our people will not be as inclined to see it so kindly, Your Majesty,” Tyr warned.

“Our people,” Thor growled, “have no right to expect their Prince to submit to _rape_.”

Loki flinched.

“Indeed,” the Queen said. “Still, I would recommend you keep a low profile over the coming weeks, Loki.”

“Yes, Your Majesty,” Loki said, bending forward again to touch his forehead to the floor. “Thank you. With all my heart, _thank you_.”

“Rise, brother,” she said. “Our business is not yet concluded. You have yet to explain what you were doing, taking Sleipnir out alone last night.”

_Oh. Oh, fuck._

Loki swallowed. “I –”

She chuckled suddenly, and waved a hand. “Go, before I change my mind. I have much to do, and you have caused me enough of a headache lately. Thor, I expect you to see to it that there are no more late night, unescorted trips, nor any other kind of mischief. The Fall Festival is to go off without a hitch, and then I will be leaving for Jotunheim. Behave, both of you. Understand?”

~*~

Loki took a book of poems out to the Queen Frigga Memorial Gardens. It was his favourite place to read and think; he was never disturbed, there. Not even Thor dared to raise his voice in their mother’s gardens.

Neither of them remembered her, of course. Thor had been a babe of only a few years when Frigga had ventured out to visit Odin and Hela on their campaign to Jotunheim. Her party had stumbled inadvertently onto a group of subs and their children fleeing the ever-moving front line. Loki and his dam, Farbauti, had been among them. 

Farbauti had been gravely injured, and as he lay dying, Frigga had taken compassion upon the young Jotun, and agreed to take Loki. And then Asgard’s army had come upon them, and in the chaos, she’d been killed by friendly fire. 

Loki had been found in her arms, protected by a spell so powerful it had lasted even after her death.

It was said that this was what ended the war. Odin and Laufey, struck simultaneously by the grief of losing their beloveds. Loki had never really understood what had possessed Odin to honour Frigga’s word, and bring him home. He’d never understood how Laufey could give him up; his last child by Farbauti. Perhaps because he was a reminder of what Laufey had lost. 

Perhaps it was the same reason Odin had never been able to love him.

But it had brought about peace between their Realms. A child belonging to both Realms; the agreement that one day, there would be an alliance between them. A permanent peace.

It was just a pity Loki had never been good at doing what was expected of him.

He stared down at the page, re-reading the same line over and over. He wondered what Frigga and Farbauti would think of him, now. It didn't really bear thinking of.

“There you are,” Thor said, quietly.

Loki looked up at him. The sunlight was dappling through the trees, setting Thor’s golden hair aglow. He looked beautiful, and a part of Loki _wanted_. “Here I am,” he agreed, patting the seat beside him.

Thor didn’t take it. Instead, he sank into a cross-legged position by Loki’s feet, pressing his shoulder into Loki’s thigh. “I still intend to claim you,” he said. “In case you were wondering.”

“I wasn’t,” Loki said.

“Good,” Thor said. “I don’t want you to ever doubt my love for you, Loki. Whatever you need from me, I will do.”

Loki scoffed. “And if I never let you fuck me?”

Thor glanced up, catching Loki’s gaze. He looked very serious. “That’s your right,” he said. “That’s what consent _means_. And sex is not the only way we can enjoy each other’s company.” He hesitated. “You’re always thinking, brother. I could help you forget it all, for a little while. If you want.”

“How?” Loki asked, before he could stop himself.

Thor was silent for a long moment. “Trust,” he said, at last. “Did Tyr blindfold you?”

Loki shook his head silently. He could feel his heart speeding up a little, but he didn't think it was from fear.

Thor rose, drawing Loki to his feet with him. “Go to your rooms,” he said. “I’ll meet you there. I have a few things I need to get, but I won’t be long.”

Loki regarded him thoughtfully. “This doesn’t mean I’m accepting your offer,” he warned. “I told you, I don’t want a Dom.”

Thor smiled. “No strings,” he agreed. “Just – mutual pleasure.”

 _The way it’s supposed to be_ , Loki concluded. He wasn’t a fool. He knew that that was what Thor was trying to show him. But he was feeling the wrench of their coming separation rather more acutely than he’d realised he would, and part of him hoped this would help. A goodbye, of sorts, even if Thor wasn’t aware of it.

“All right,” he said.

~*~

He’d completely forgotten the state he’d left his rooms in.

Loki stared around in dismay. There was no time to clean up, and an illusion wouldn’t last for long; not when Thor was bound to try to interact with his surroundings. Loki had some skill with tangible illusions, but he had no idea if he could keep it up while Thor was Domming him. He couldn’t take the risk.

So he met Thor outside his quarters, door firmly closed behind him. “We should do this elsewhere,” he said, in response to Thor’s bewildered expression.

Thor shook his head stubbornly. “I want you comfortable.”

“I won’t be comfortable in there,” Loki insisted. “It’s my space, Thor. The one place I have any control over. I’m not giving that up; not even for you.”

Thor frowned. “We have to be circumspect. We can’t afford for the Queen to hear about us from anyone else. Which means it’s my room or yours.”

“Yours, then,” Loki said, promptly.

“But – Loki, are you sure?”

“Very sure,” Loki said, and transported them there with his seidr. Thor blinked, and looked around. 

“I didn’t know you could do that,” he said, sounding impressed.

Loki rolled his eyes, but he felt warmed. It was not often that he could impress his older brother. Thor was bigger, and stronger, and had been found worthy of Mjolnir at only eight hundred years old. He was the favourite Odinson, beloved by the people and doted upon by their father.

“I don’t tell you all my secrets, Thor,” he said.

“I know,” Thor replied, simply. “It’s part of why I love you. Life is never boring with you by my side.”

Loki smiled slightly. “So. You have me at your mercy, now. Am I to bend the knee?”

“No,” Thor said. “I’m not your leige, or your Dom. Not yet. I want you reclining back on the couch. Make yourself comfortable. We’re going to be here a while.” 

He had a large basket with him, and Loki was tempted to reach out to it with his seidr. It would be the work of mere moments to figure out what was inside. But he restrained himself, determined to prove Tyr wrong. He could be a good sub. He _could_.

His brother perched himself next to Loki. “All right?” he said, gently, holding up a piece of fabric. Loki nodded, and leaned up slightly to allow Thor to wrap it around his head. Thor tied it in place, tugging the front to adjust it over Loki’s eyes. “Tell me your safeword, sweetheart.”

Loki tensed. Of course, he should have expected this, but –

“Loki?” Thor sounded concerned. “We can’t do this without it. I’m not putting a seidr-dampening collar on you, so you can remove yourself from the scene anytime you want. But I need to know you trust me enough to stop, if you use your safeword.”

Loki bit the inside of his lip, tasting blood. “I trust you,” he forced out. 

But then, he'd trusted Tyr, as well.

He felt Thor’s large, familiar hand cup his neck, thumb brushing up under his jaw, and he relaxed abruptly. This was different. This was _Thor_. “Do you need to stop, baby?” Thor asked.

“No,” Loki said. “No, I’m fine. But if you laugh, I am ending this right here and now.” He took a deep breath. “It’s Mjolnir.”

There was a suspicious pause. “Your safeword,” Thor said, “is Mjolnir.”

Loki growled, shoving himself up. “ _Yes_ –” he began, but a hand touched his chest. Not stopping him; simply a silent request to stay. There was a quiet rustle as Thor leaned in, and then lips pressed against his temple.

“I love you,” his brother said, his voice cracking. “I love that you thought of me when you decided on your safeword. And I _hate_ that you used it, and he _ignored_ you. I want to kill him for you, Loki. I want to rip him apart, limb from limb. I want to burn him from the inside-out with the hammer you called on for protection.”

Loki smiled, relaxing back against the cushions. He felt safe, hemmed in by the couch and his bloodthirsty brother. “He’s the Queen’s right-hand,” he pointed out. “You would spend the rest of your life in the dungeons.”

“It might be worth it,” Thor said roughly, resting his forehead against Loki’s temple. “They allow conjugal visits for claimed subs, you know.”

Loki chuckled, lifting a hand to thread his fingers into Thor’s hair. “Still not letting you put a collar on me,” he said, tugging him away, “so as much as I appreciate the sentiment, no.”

“You appreciate the sentiment?” Thor said, in a tone of mock-surprise. “Are you telling me, after all this time, that all I had to do was offer to kill someone for you, and you’d let me shower you with all the affection I’ve been holding back?”

Loki raised his eyebrows above the blindfold. “There’s _more_?” he said dubiously.

“So much more,” Thor said, with feeling. It made something flutter in Loki’s stomach. “Sometimes I think the love I have for you could fill the oceans of a thousand worlds, and still overflow.”

“ _Thor_ ,” Loki protested, and something filled his mouth. 

He spluttered in surprise, belatedly recognising the taste of one of Idunn’s apples. His bewilderment must have showed on his face, because Thor laughed.

“To give you energy for what’s to come,” he explained. “Eat up, sweetheart. If you’ve had something nutritious before a scene, you’re less likely to go into sub-drop afterwards.”

Loki chewed the rather large portion of apple, swallowing it down. “How do you know that?” he asked, irritably. “You’re not a sub.”

“No,” Thor said, agreeably. “But _I_ actually paid attention in our lessons, unlike you. You always had your nose in another book.”

Loki sniffed, annoyed that his brother was right. “I was hardly going to pay attention to the organised, legalised brainwashing they call gender-role education.”

Thor sighed, but didn’t argue. “I always admired how fast you could read,” he said, thoughtfully. “As soon as our tutors started us on a topic, it seemed like you knew everything about it. The number of times you put our tutors to shame… it made me so proud of you.”

Loki’s mouth fell open. “What,” he said, dumbly, and received another over-large slice of apple. His brows snapped together, and he started chewing quickly, only for Thor to keep talking.

“I’m still proud of you, you know. For so many reasons. You’re the strongest person I know. You’ve spent your entire life surrounded by Doms, but you’ve never let your dynamic define you, or stop you from doing the things you want to do –”

“Thor,” Loki said, as soon as he could. This time it was sweet berries that filled his mouth. He scowled, spitting them out. “What are you _doing_?”

“Showering you with affection,” Thor said, a smile in his voice. “And berries, apparently. You’re making a mess, brother.”

“That’s not my fault!” Loki said. “How am I supposed to say my safeword if you keep stuffing food in my mouth?”

“Good point,” Thor said. “You’ll just have to spit it out, if it becomes necessary. But otherwise, Loki,” his voice dropped, and he caressed Loki’s jaw, “you eat what I give you, understand?”

Loki shivered; suddenly, inexplicably aroused. “But –”

“Ah, ah,” Thor chided, sliding a forkful of something into Loki’s mouth. Loki closed his mouth around it involuntarily, and almost moaned at the taste. Custard tart. He _loved_ custard tart, and his bastard of a brother knew it. “You’ve always had a sweet tooth. My sweet Loki.”

Loki grumbled in warning around the tart, but he didn’t spit it out.

Thor traced a thumb over his lips. “My sweet Loki,” he repeated, and Loki shivered again. “You have such a sweet smile, you know. I don’t think I’ve ever told you that before.” _Because I would have_ stabbed _you_ , Loki thought indignantly, trying to communicate the thought to his brother with his eyebrows. Thor just chuckled, smoothing his thumb over one. “I know,” he said. “But you do. Even when you’re using it to manipulate someone. It’s still so sweet. I think that’s why it works.”

Loki swallowed the custard tart. “Of course that’s –”

More tart filled his mouth.

“I love everything about you,” Thor said, not a shred of deceit in his tone. Always so incurably _honest_ , Loki thought, infuriated and confused. He felt somehow as if his brother was ripping something open inside him, exposing _him_ , even though it was his own inner thoughts he was revealing. “You’re so beautiful, baby. I love your blue eyes. I love the way you gel your hair so I can’t frizz it with my lightning. I love your little smirk, whenever I catch you at one of your pranks.”

“You don’t always –”

Chocolate truffle, this time. Loki sighed through his nose. He was going to get a sugar rush, at this rate.

“I don’t always love your pranks, you’re right,” Thor agreed. “But I am _always_ amused by them. And my feelings for you have never changed. I’ve been in love with you for centuries, Loki. For as long as I can remember, really.”

Loki frowned, swallowing the truffle a little too fast. “You never said anything,” he said, accusingly.

“No,” Thor said, and the terrible regret in his voice brought a lump to Loki’s throat. “I’m sorry, brother. I should have told you. You’ve always been so good for me. Don’t think I don’t notice. You never obeyed Father unless you had to, and you’re the same with Hela, and any other Dom who thinks they can tell you what to do. But you obey _me_.”

Loki remembered his intention to take those fifty lashes, despite promising Thor he wouldn’t, and his cheeks flushed in shame.

“One mistake does not define you, Loki,” Thor said gently, reading his mind. “Fifteen _hundred_ years. I could count on one hand the number of times you’ve actually defied a direct order from me. Do you know how proud I am of you for that?”

Loki could feel tears welling up in his eyes, and he was suddenly grateful for the blindfold.

“ _So_ proud, baby,” Thor whispered. “Of your obedience. Your strength. I see what you do for this family. For Asgard. I see your dedication, and your determination. But you didn’t let Hela marry you off. You didn’t let that injustice stand. You took your life into your own hands, and I am _so proud of you_ for that.”

Loki’s whole body was trembling. He realised there was nothing in his mouth, and he opened it, waiting. But Thor didn’t fill it again.

“All right, baby?” he asked, tenderly. “Do you need to say your safeword? It’s okay to say yes. We’ll stop it right here, okay? I’ll be so proud of you, if you use it because you need to stop this.”

It took a moment for Loki to pull himself together, but he managed to shake his head.

“You don’t want to stop?” Thor checked.

Loki shook his head again.

“Good boy,” Thor said, and he sounded so pleased that Loki sobbed, a little. Thor’s fingers slipped between his lips, and Loki started to suck on them in relief. “I didn’t think you’d get here so fast,” Thor said, quietly. “I have loads more custard tart. But you constantly surprise me, Loki. You’re _incredible_. Look at you. So good for me, aren’t you, baby? Such a good boy.”

Everything felt hazy, like his world had narrowed to Thor’s fingers in his mouth and Thor’s voice in his ear. He felt very peaceful, and content. Thor was pleased with him, and he kept telling Loki so, like he could talk forever about how good Loki was, how _proud_ he was of him, how much he admired and respected him – 

And for the first time in his life, Loki felt no particular inclination to stop him.

~*~

It felt like a long time later that Thor told him to come back. Loki frowned, disgruntled. He was very warm and comfortable, and he didn’t _want_ to. But Thor was insistent, and Loki’s desire to please him outweighed the desire to stay where he was. He’d never felt this good before.

“Mmph,” he said.

“There you are,” Thor crooned, pleased. “How are you feeling, brother?”

Loki opened his eyes, but he couldn’t see anything. He panicked for a moment, but then Thor’s hands were on his face, smoothing over the blindfold, and he remembered.

“Shh,” Thor soothed him. “It’s all right. I’ll take it off. Close your eyes again, first. The light might take some getting used to.”

Loki did as he was told, and the blindfold slipped off. It didn’t seem particularly bright, and he squinted his eyes open, relieved to see Thor’s quarters were in semi-darkness. He raised an eyebrow at his brother. “What light?” he murmured.

Thor broke into a smile. “Hey there, sweetheart,” he said. “How are you feeling? Are you all right?”

Loki stretched, realising that Thor had managed to swaddle him in blankets sometime while he was in sub-space, and there was a fire lit in the hearth. No wonder he was so warm. He shook his head in bemusement. “More than,” he said, and was surprised to realise it was the truth. “I'm still not going to let you fuck me, though.”

Thor’s smile just widened. “I know. We’re done for today. No sex required to feel good.”

Loki eyed him sideways. “We’re done?”

“Apart from aftercare,” Thor clarified. “I’d like to bathe you again, if that’s something you’re comfortable with. I think we both enjoyed that, last time, and I want to take care of you.”

“Isn’t that what you’ve just been doing?” Loki asked, dryly. “For the last – however long? Aren’t you tired of it by now?”

“Never,” Thor said fervently. “Taking care of you is my joy and privilege, Loki. I can’t even _describe_ to you how good it felt to watch you go under, knowing you trusted me to take care of you. It was the best feeling in the world.”

Loki didn’t really understand that, but he remembered Sigyn telling him that Thor was always seeking to please him. She wasn’t wrong. He’d always appreciated Thor stepping in where Odin either couldn’t, or wouldn’t. But he'd also chafed under his brother’s overbearing commands and oft-overwhelming affection. 

He’d never considered how much he _needed_ that from someone, and how much he was missing by not letting Thor closer. He’d certainly never considered how much of himself Thor had been holding back, for Loki’s sake.

“Thank you, brother,” he said, quietly. “For everything.”

Thor’s smile almost split his cheeks. “Thank _you_ ,” he said, earnestly. “I love you, Loki.”

“I love you too,” Loki said.

He let his brother coax him up, bundling him into the bathroom. He undressed automatically as Thor ran the water, and slipped into it with a sigh. He wanted to enjoy it; the hot water easing tight muscles, fingers in his hair massaging away the gel, Thor’s voice keeping up a string of inconsequential chatter. But all he could think about was the Fall Festival. 

This was supposed to have made it easier to leave, not harder. But then, Thor had been a part of him for as long as he could remember. Of course the goodbye would be hard. He just had to be strong. He could do this. He had to. Freedom was more important than anything else, including Thor.

At least, that was what he told himself, as he let Thor dote on him for just a little while longer. Packing for the long journey ahead of him could wait.


	5. Chapter 5

The day of the Fall Festival dawned bright and warm. Celebrations began early, with mead flowing freely at breakfast. Loki made an appearance in the banquet hall for the first time since his ‘punishment’, and illusioned himself to grow more pale and wan as the minutes passed.

“You feeling all right, Loki?” Fandral asked. “Only you look a bit peaky, if you know what I mean.”

Thor turned to him in concern. “Brother? What is it? Are you ill?”

“He took fifty lashes, just a week ago,” Lady Sif said. “Perhaps it is too early to be out and about.” She frowned, eyeing Loki somewhat suspiciously. “Though I _did_ hear a rumour that you went for a rather long ride, the other night.”

Loki scoffed. “Of course you did. Norns only know how the court gets anything done, what with all the gossiping, rumours and intrigues going on behind the scenes.”

“Most of which you are usually a part of, if not the instigator,” Sif pointed out, not without truth. “And you didn't answer the question.”

Thor waved her off impatiently. “Loki,” he said, in an undertone, “are you well? I did not see you at all yesterday. I had hoped –”

“Just a headache,” Loki assured him, standing. “But I think I'll return to my quarters to lie down. I should rest.”

“Oh,” Thor said. He looked so disappointed that Loki’s heart broke, a little. “Do you think – I had hoped that we might spend the day together. You've always enjoyed the Fall Festival. I was planning to take you out into the city –” 

“I'm sorry, brother,” Loki said, gently. “Not this year.” _Nor any year to come_. The thought was surprisingly painful.

Thor frowned. “Do you think you should visit Eir? This is not like you, Loki.”

“It's been a difficult week,” Loki said, pointedly, both for his brother and the listening ears around them.

Thor’s face fell, and he nodded. “Do you want me to come with you?”

Loki shook his head. He pinched Thor's chin between his finger and thumb, turning it up. Then he leaned down, and kissed him softly on the lips. 

Thor inhaled sharply. “Loki?” he said, confusion on his face.

Loki turned and walked away. He could hear the muttering behind him, Sif's voice rising above the rest. “What was _that_ about?”

Clearly she wasn't nearly as perceptive as Sigyn, Loki thought. Unsurprising, given her painfully obvious tendre for the Crown Prince. He wondered if Thor would consider her suit, once he was gone. Sif was a switch, which was unusual, but her lineage was impeccable, descended from both the Aesir and Vanir royal bloodlines. Her aunt also controlled a vast empire of inter-realm trading companies. Sif's dowry would be of enormous benefit to Asgard.

Hela would almost certainly approve of the match.

Loki stood staring around his rooms for longer than was necessary. It was fitting that he’d destroyed everything of value, because in the end, he couldn’t take any of it with him.

He noticed a large picture frame, shattered on the ground, and his heart lurched. He lifted it up gently to set it against the wall. The portrait inside was over a millenia old, carefully preserved with spells by the seidkona who had painted it. Somehow, it had survived Loki’s rampage.

They were little more than children in it; barely two hundred years old. Loki remembered Thor hadn’t been able to sit still, wriggling and complaining the entire time. He also remembered watching the butterfly flit around the plants on the balcony, and calling it to him with a touch of seidr. The look of delight on Thor’s face as Loki lifted the butterfly up to him – 

That was the moment the seidkona had captured.

He touched child-Thor’s face; those big blue eyes and plump, rosy cheeks, golden hair shining in the sunlight. Making up his mind, he used his seidr to shrink the portrait, and then rolled it up, shoving it in his bag.

Then he closed the door to his rooms behind him, and walked away.

He visited Slepnir, to say goodbye in person. She seemed to sense something was wrong, for she was restless, stamping and tossing her head when he tried to pet her.

“I’m sorry,” Loki said, his throat aching. “I’m sorry.”

Mimir’s Path was in the mountains, more than a hundred leagues away from the city, but he couldn’t take her with him. An eight-legged horse was marvel enough in Asgard. On other worlds, she would draw far too much attention. He had to go unnoticed, at least until he found what he was looking for. Somewhere safe. Somewhere he could be _free_.

So he parted from her reluctantly, wincing at the fuss she kicked up behind him.

He illusioned himself as one of the many serving-girls who worked in the palace, and left, surrounded by streams of merry-makers heading to the taverns and open-air festivites.

There was a small shop in the city below where he knew he might hire a skiff, no questions asked. The crowds thinned out considerably as he entered the backstreets, which he was grateful for. The less people to observe a young lady hiring a skiff on her own on the day of the Fall Festival, the better.

But he never made it to his destination.

Just around the corner from the shop, he heard the scuffing of furtive footsteps behind him. Seidr already on his fingertips, he started to turn. But it was too late.

Something heavy caught him across the head. Stars exploded in front of his eyes. Everything went black.

~*~

He woke slowly, painfully.

His head was throbbing, and he felt sick. It was too loud; rain pounding the roof above him. There was a threatening rumble of thunder from somewhere in the distance. He groaned, cursing his selfish oaf of a brother for waking him. He’d never had such a bad hangover. He tried to turn and hide his face, but something around his wrists brought him up short. 

He opened his eyes. The light _hurt_ , spiking pain through his head. He looked around, disoriented. 

He was in some kind of – warehouse, the kind used for moving and storing larger wares such as hovercraft. He tried to move again, and something rattled. He was lying on his side against a wall, arms bound behind his back – with _chains_. He was chained to a length of pipe.

His memories came back to him in a rush.

Fear made him cry out for help. He remembered Sigyn telling him of the reports of Jotun in the city. Why hadn’t he listened?

“No one can hear you,” a familiar voice said.

Loki’s heart stopped. No. Oh, Norns, no. 

_Tyr_.

He reached for his seidr, but it refused to come to him. There was a collar around his neck. Terrified, he screamed, thrashing against the chains.

“You’re going to hurt yourself, carrying on like that,” Tyr observed, crouching down beside him. He touched Loki’s hair, stroking it back from his face. Loki turned his head and bit him.

Tyr roared in pain, wrenching backwards. He stumbled to his feet, and the last thing Loki saw was a boot coming towards his face.

The next time he woke, it was with a gag in his mouth. 

It was only a moment before he remembered, this time. 

His head felt as if it might split open, and his stomach rebelled, threatening to bring up his breakfast from – how long ago? How long had he been here? It was still raining, the sky black with clouds, but it was not quite dark enough for night. Still, the days on Asgard were long and the nights short, this time of year.

He forced himself to swallow, again and again, knowing that if he let himself vomit, he might very well die of asphyxiation.

“I should have done this from the start,” Tyr said. He had found a chair, and was leaning back in it comfortably, watching him. There was a bandage around his left hand.

Loki bared his teeth in a snarl, feeling the gag dig painfully into the corners of his lips.

“The Silvertongue’s tongue silenced at last,” Tyr mused. “You’ve always thought yourself so intelligent, Jotun. Our little brood parasite in the nest. No doubt you’ve been congratulating yourself on your brilliant plan to shirk your duty to the Realm. But I’ve been one step ahead of you the whole time.”

Loki stared at him.

Tyr leaned forward, eyes glinting. “You’re _mine_ now, understand? No one knows you’re here. No one’s coming for you.”

“ _Thor_ ,” Loki tried to say, around the gag.

Tyr shook his head, brow darkening. “I saw you kiss him yesterday.” Loki’s heart skipped a beat. The Fall Festival was over, then. Mimir’s Path would close again in less than a week. “I thought all your talk of being ‘in love’ was simple embellishment of your lie, but you have feelings for him, don’t you? Ironic, that you fled from the arms of one brother into another. But you should be thanking your lucky stars you caught my attention. Thor will be dead soon enough, and no one wants a defiled _and_ abandoned sub.”

Loki jerked, trying to speak. It came out muffled; incomprehensible.

Tyr looked satisfied. “I suppose I should explain. You made it almost too easy for me, you see. Tearing apart your rooms in a way no normal Aesir could. Taking such great care that no one saw you leave the Palace. I've been planting the seeds since last week, spreading rumours about Jotnar in the city. All I had to do was leave an old spear in the debris, and everyone immediately jumped to the conclusion you'd been taken by our old enemy.”

Loki sucked in a sharp breath.

“Indeed,” Tyr said, smiling. “The Queen is preparing for war as we speak. Your brother, naturally, is planning to lead the charge. When I left the Council, he was threatening to go by himself, if we can’t raise the army quick enough.”

Loki shook his head, horrified. Hela was a highly skilled diplomat. Despite her warning, he’d never really feared war as a result of his actions. For all his faults, it was the one thing Odin had impressed upon them all firmly. _Nothing good could come of war._

“But none of that is your concern, now,” Tyr said. “You’re no longer a Prince of Asgard. You are simply – mine. As soon as it’s safe, I will be moving you to a private apartment in the city, where you need not bother your pretty little head over anything but how best to please me for the rest of your life.”

Loki swallowed. _No._ Blind panic threatened to descend upon him again. He pushed it back, panting, but he couldn’t help struggling against the chains, jerking at them desperately.

“Now, now, none of that, child,” Tyr chided. He stood, looking down at Loki thoughtfully. “It will be a difficult transition for you, I understand that. I will not be unreasonable. But I _will_ make a proper sub out of you, mark my words. Fighting me will only make it harder for yourself.”

Loki glared at him, furious and sick with fear and wishing, more than anything, that his brother were here. 

“I have to go,” Tyr said. “There’s only so long I can spend with you before my absence is remarked upon. And, of course, we march on Jotunheim within the day. I expect you to think upon your behaviour, while I’m away. Perhaps you will be more inclined to obedience, after several months without food and water.”

~*~

Loki watched the lightning through the windows. It was too far away. Thor had no idea where he was. He’d tried in vain to reach his bag, on the floor by Tyr’s chair. Even the tools tucked into his boot were out of reach. He was too close to the wall; he couldn’t bring his feet up high enough behind himself to get to them. He was trapped, helpless, with no way out. No way to get to Thor. No way to stop the war.

He slept restlessly, on and off, keeping one ear out for the rumble of thunder that meant his brother was near. It never came.

Instead, when he woke the next morning, it was to the sound of hushed voices. 

“… Are you sure?” Tyr was murmuring. “If he were to get loose somehow –”

“I trust you’ve taken the necessary precautions,” another voice interrupted. 

Loki’s heart leapt, and his eyes snapped open. _Hela_. Which meant Thor –

But his brother was nowhere in sight. Hela was standing close to Tyr, dressed in battle armour, her long, dark hair hidden under a terrifying spiked helmet. She looked like the pictures of old; the days before the war that had ended Odin’s quest for power.

“He is my brother, and I admit to a certain fondness for him,” she was saying. “I want the opportunity to say goodbye.”

Bewildered, Loki called out to her. It was muffled by the gag, but she turned and walked over to him.

“Brother,” she said, crouching down gracefully. “You’re hurt.”

Her hands were gentle on his face, removing the gag. Loki blinked at her. The corners of his lips stung, and there was blood caked to the side of his face, but that hardly seemed important. “Hela,” he repeated, his voice hoarse. “S-sister. What are you – why –”

She cocked her head to one side, looking terribly amused all of a sudden. “Did you think I was here to save you, darling?”

_Why else –?_

“You are not the only one in this family with the gift of guile, brother. I am the Goddess of Death. I have bided my time, but death is in my blood. It sings to me in the night, calling out for war, for bloodshed. I just needed an excuse.”

Loki stared at her uncomprehendingly. He looked at Tyr, standing a respectful distance away. “You – this is _your_ –”

Hela smiled. “You are no fool, darling. I always liked that about you. But I was beginning to despair of your ability to extricate yourself from the engagement to Helblindi-King. So I had Tyr make advances. You latched onto the idea like a kitten to a life-raft in the middle of the sea. It was a little pathetic, honestly.”

“Then – you never intended to let Helblindi have me?”

“Of course not,” Hela said. “And you played your part beautifully, in the end. It's just a pity he was still willing to claim you, even after you spread your legs for Tyr.”

“So – so you let _Tyr_ take me? So you could go to war against the Jotnar?”

“The Realm owes you their gratitude,” Hela agreed. “I will make sure they remember you, brother. You will be honoured among the fallen.”

“I’m not dead,” Loki said, blankly, and she laughed. 

“No. Not yet.”

He froze at the implication. “Hela – Hela, _please_. Let me go. I’ll disappear. You’ll never see me again.”

Hela glanced at Tyr. “Oh, I’ll see you again, brother,” she said, quietly. “One last time. Your death, properly framed, will provide me with years of justification for my war.”

“You intend to _murder_ me?” Loki said, letting his voice rise.

“What?” Tyr said, taking a startled step forward. “Your Majesty?”

Hela rose, shrugging. “You will have your time with him, as agreed, Lord Tyr. But it will become obvious, sooner or later, that the Jotnar do not have him. That is when he must die.”

Tyr’s brows twitched together, but he bowed. “O-of course, Your Majesty.”

“Don't do this,” Loki said, panicking. “Please, Hela! I can help you. I’m your greatest asset at court, and you know it!”

“Yes,” she agreed. “But we are at war, now.”

“I can fight!” Loki said, throwing all his cards on the table in his desperation. “I know how to use a blade. I’m a powerful seidmadr. I've been training for over a thousand years. You have no idea what I can do. Take off this collar, and I’ll show you!”

Hela laughed. “Intriguing proposition, little brother,” she acknowledged. “But as much as I’d love to put you on your knees in one-to-one battle, I am afraid I will have to decline. I have another war to fight; one with much higher stakes than this.”

“No, I’ll – I’ll bend the knee, of my own free will,” Loki promised. “I’ll fight _for_ you. I give you my word.”

His sister sighed. “Loki,” she said, kindly enough. “You are a sub. Your arms are for carrying babies, not wielding sword or seidr. And apart from anything else, as an Odinson, you are a threat to me and my throne.”

Loki stared at her. He couldn't take the throne himself, as a sub, and any children he had only stood to inherit after Hela's children, and then Thor and _his_ children. So if she saw _him_ as a threat – 

“Thor,” he said.

Hela waved a careless hand. “Oh, he’ll die first, of course. You need not fear him grieving you.”

“You _can’t_ ,” Loki said, numbly.

Her expression hardened. “On the contrary. I am Queen of Asgard. You have always been my favourite, Loki, but neither you nor Thor will stand in my way. Odin’s soft-hearted approach to politics that began with our mother’s death ends, here and now. I am a conqueror, and the Nine Realms will remember that before this year is done.”

~*~

Lord Tyr did not depart with his Queen. Instead, he lingered in the warehouse, his face unhappy.

“I didn’t know,” he muttered.

Loki shifted carefully on the cold ground, wincing. His shoulders and arms were aching fiercely, now. One eye felt swollen and tender, and his vision was blurred. “I believe you,” he said.

Tyr frowned, kneeling down beside him. “You’re hurting,” he said. “You should have said.”

 _Was that before or after you kicked me in the face?_ Loki thought. He shifted again, letting the metal chains rattle around his wrists.

“Let me,” Tyr said, reaching over him. Loki sighed in relief as the chains were loosened, rolling his shoulders. His arms were still bound behind him, but he was able to push himself up to a sitting position.

He found himself trapped between Tyr and the wall. 

“That should be enough slack to move around a bit, keep the blood flowing,” his captor said, smiling at him. “I’m not cruel, Loki. I want you to be happy with me as your Dom.”

“Not for long, though,” Loki pointed out. “You’re unlikely to ever see me again, if the Queen succeeds in her plan.”

Tyr scowled. “You’re _mine_ ,” he insisted. “She promised.”

“And you’re the General of her army,” Loki said. “You heard what I did. She has no intention of ending this war quickly, and you know as well as I do that you won’t be permitted furlough anytime soon.”

Tyr snarled. “Fine. _Fine_. I'll have you now, then. On your knees.”

It was what Loki wanted, but then Tyr’s hands were on him, impatient, pulling him up, and he had to suppress the sudden urge to fight back – with words or just a well-placed head-butt. Tyr grabbed his jaw, yanking him into a bruising kiss. Loki carefully remained passive, just as Tyr liked it, focusing instead on getting his fingers around the small object tucked down the side of his boot.

He wouldn’t go through this again. He wouldn’t ever be a victim again.

Tyr pulled back. “Good,” he said, pleased. “Much better than last time. You can learn, after all. Maybe I’ll have you use your mouth elsewhere.”

“Maybe I’ll bite off your dick, if you put it anywhere near my mouth,” Loki said.

Tyr’s eyes widened in fury. He struck Loki hard across the face, the force of it sending him sprawling onto his side. “You’ll regret that!” Tyr roared. “How dare you! I am your _Dom_! You do whatever I tell you to do!”

“That’s where you’re wrong,” Loki said. He scrabbled on the floor with his fingers, heart pounding so loudly he could hardly hear himself speak. “You’re not my Dom. And even if you were, I’d never obey you. That necessitates respect, and trust, and you deserve _neither_.”

“Shut your mouth!” Tyr yelled, striking him again. He grabbed Loki around the neck, slamming him down. Loki’s vision went black around the edges. “Not another word, you hear me? You’re a piss-poor sub – talking back, bleating your safeword every time you can’t cope with the pain. I’d’ve trained that out of you, with enough time. But it appears we’ve run out. If you’re not going to submit to me, you’re not going to submit to anyone.”

His hands tightened around Loki’s neck. 

Loki couldn’t breathe. The world was closing in on him. He was going to die.

Then – _there_! His hand closed around something small and thin. Shaking with his urgency, he pressed down on the little indentation at the top. There was a soft _whoosh_. He couldn’t see; couldn’t even think anymore. He just needed to _breathe_ –

The hands abruptly let go. He gasped in a breath. And another, and another, sucking in the precious oxygen greedily.

He opened his eyes. 

Tyr was gaping at him, impaled through the stomach with a sword made of ice. Blood and spit was bubbling up at the corner of his lips.

“The – collar –” he choked. 

Loki coughed, still trying to get his breath back. He used his seidr to remove the chains around his wrists, bringing them around to rub gingerly. 

“Fool me once,” he rasped, opening his hand.

Tyr stared uncomprehendingly at the little device.

“I’ve had a bit of time on my hands,” Loki said, hoarsely, “since you raped me. Invented something that will nullify the effects of anything artificially infused with seidr in a five foot radius.” He tapped the collar around his neck. “No seidr, no seidr-dampening.”

Tyr was choking now, his eyes rolling back in his head. 

Loki grabbed him by the front of his tunic. “ _Mjolnir_ ,” he whispered, in Tyr’s ear. And then he let him die.

~*~

He struggled to his feet, head throbbing. He could barely see out of one eye, and his ears were ringing oddly. But he was alive. 

He reached up to touch the collar, and winced. The leather had gouged deep into his skin. It hurt to peel off. He flung it as far as he could. Then he braced himself against the wall, almost tripping over the body as he stumbled past. He kicked it for good measure, and almost overbalanced.

“Fuck,” he muttered. He wouldn’t get far like this. He could try to heal himself, but that had never been his area of expertise. It would require a great deal of energy, and that he could ill afford to waste, right now. 

The door was locked.

He glanced back at the body. No doubt there was a key in one of the pockets, but he wasn’t going back there. He gritted his teeth, forcing the door open with his shoulder instead. No seidr. Not yet.

He stepped out onto a street that was shockingly familiar. He stared at the skiff shop, and then turned to look at the warehouse. They were directly opposite each other. That – that had to be _planned_. Which meant Tyr, or perhaps Hela, had anticipated his flight. He’d used the place – what, maybe five, six times in the last century? Had Tyr been _watching_ him? Stalking him?

Sickened, Loki cast an illusion over himself. A young man; non-descript, completely forgettable. 

There weren’t many people about, but he approached the first girl he saw. She had white ribbons in her hair; the colour of war. “Excuse me,” he rasped. “The army. Are they on the march yet?”

She looked at him like he was mad. “They’re gone. You missed the crossing? The whole city was there to see them off!”

Loki inclined his head. “Thank you,” he murmured, and moved aside to let her pass. _Damn you, Thor_ , he thought. That was almost certainly his doing, the fool. Too impatient to wait for the General of the fucking _army_.

He looked up. The sky was still overcast, but the storm had passed. Thor was undoubtedly gone.

So now what?

The easiest path to Jotunheim was the Bifrost, but it was far too dangerous to go to the Observatory. He’d always thought of Heimdall as an ally, of sorts. He was all-seeing, and yet he had never betrayed Loki’s seidr-training to his father or Hela. But then, he’d also done nothing to stop Tyr, or warn Thor. It seemed likely his loyalties were with the Queen.

There were the hidden paths to Jotunheim, of course, but with the worlds out of alignment – such a feat would be nigh on impossible, in his state. 

Loki glanced at the shop across the road. On the other hand… Mimir’s Path was still open. He could leave all of this behind him. Thor was powerful, in his own way. Surely he would be able to defeat Hela, even taken by surprise. 

An ambush, Loki thought. Hela would not make it a fair fight.

But he was _so close_ , and he had suffered so much in pursuit of his goal. It would be madness to give up, now.

He made up his mind, and started across the road.


	6. Chapter 6

The sun was setting behind the mountains by the time he reached the foothills. Behind him, Asgard gleamed in the dusk-light; the Eternal, Shining City. 

The entrance to Mimir’s Path was deep within a network of caverns under the mountains, but that was not his goal. The Path to Utgard was much harder to find, but Loki had spent his life rarely permitted to step outside the Palace walls. He had read every book in the vast library at least twice, and the ones that mentioned the paths between the worlds many more times than that.

He was confident in his ability to find the path. As for opening it – well, that was another matter entirely.

An hour later, he stood in front of a distortion in the fabric of reality. It was a very old oak tree; one that might have been a sapling in the days of Odin’s grandfather, Buri.

He closed his eyes, reaching out to touch it.

Something brushed against his awareness. He tensed. “You weren’t invited,” he said.

“My apologies, Your Highness,” said Heimdall, in his deep voice. Loki turned to see him helping Sigyn down from a skiff. He bowed in Loki’s direction. “I saw your message to her ladyship. The butterfly was an unusual touch. It caught my eye.”

“Fuck,” Loki muttered. He narrowed his eyes at Sigyn. “Why is he _here_?”

She dropped a curtsy. “The same reason I am, I imagine,” she said. “But since you would not tell me why I must meet you with all haste and in absolute secrecy in the mountains beyond Asgard, when the Queen and Crown Prince have taken the _entire_ army, including my Bragi, to Jotunheim in search of you – I could not say.”

“Your sarcasm is duly noted,” Loki said. “Heimdall? What say you?”

The Gatekeeper frowned. “I did not see you taken, Your Highness. My gaze was turned elsewhere. Her Majesty the Queen had asked me to keep a close watch on Jotunheim, given the volatile situation. And then – I could not see you. I suspect the warehouse was warded. I only saw you when you left the building, and by then, of course, it was too late. When I ascertained from your message to Lady Sigyn what you had planned – I could not help but offer my aid in your endeavour.”

“I’m glad _you’ve_ ascertained what he has planned,” Sigyn said, a trifle testily. “Loki, we thought you’d been _taken_. Where have you been? Are you wearing an illusion? Are you hurt?”

Loki blinked. “A little,” he acknowledged. A lot, perhaps, if she could see through his seidr. At least his throat was beginning to heal. “And I _was_ taken, as a matter of fact. Just not by the Jotnar. Lord Tyr kidnapped me, on the orders of my sister the Queen.”

Sigyn’s mouth dropped open. “ _What_?”

“She wants war,” Loki explained. “She always intended for me to break the engagement with Helblindi-King, somehow. She had Tyr seduce me. She wanted an excuse to go to war with Jotunheim, but I fear it will not end there.”

“No,” Heimdall agreed, heavily.

Loki looked at him. “You’re not surprised.”

Heimdall shook his head. “She was angry with Odin All-Father for a long time, after Queen Frigga’s death. I believed – we all believed – that she eventually came around to his change of thinking on foreign policy. But she is the Goddess of Death, and she always did relish the kill more than anything else.”

Sigyn shuddered. “This cannot be,” she said helplessly. “The Queen is – she’s –”

“Planning to murder my brother,” Loki said. “And then me, when the time was right – when the people needed further incentive to send their young Doms off to war. I realise what I am asking of you both is treason, but I will not let her hurt my brother. I will not let her make a mockery of the peace my mothers died for. Will you help me?”

“Of course, Your Highness,” Heimdall said.

Sigyn nodded, dazed. “Anything you need, Your Highness.”

~*~

He wasn't sure the skiff would survive the trip, but the journey on foot could take days. Asgard’s army had been on Jotunheim for hours, now. They had to take the risk. It might already be too late.

“We have time,” Heimdall assured him. “Utgard was not unprepared, despite our long years of peace. Our army is laying siege to the city.”

“And she can hardly attack him in front of our people,” Sigyn said. “Just a moment more, Your Highness. I promise.”

Loki tried not to squirm. She was not a Healer, though her seidr was more inclined to it than his. It tickled. “Don't wear yourself out,” he warned, again. “I need your help with the path.”

“I won’t,” she assured him, patiently. “There. That’s the best I can do, I’m afraid. How do you feel?”

“Much better,” Loki lied. In truth, he was a little disappointed. His head still ached, and he’d been feeling dizzy and ill for a while, now. But he could see out of both eyes again, and the pain in his shoulders and arms had eased. He should be able to open the path to Jotunheim. After that – well, he would just have to pray the Norns gave him strength.

He sat cross-legged in front of the oak tree, breathing deep and even. 

“I need you to lend me your seidr,” he told Sigyn. They had practiced transfer of magic together several times in the past, but it was not pleasant, feeling the seidr siphoned out of your body into someone else’s.

Still, Sigyn did not hesitate. She sat next to him, and held out a hand. Loki took it, closing his eyes.

At first, it was easy. Even with his injuries hampering his concentration, such an influx of power could not but give him strength. It was just not a matter of brute force, however. He couldn’t force the door open. He needed to _bend_ the path between two worlds that were not in alignment. It was resisting him, and he found himself tiring quicker than he’d anticipated.

Sigyn’s hand was trembling in his, and he could hear her gasping breaths.

“I’m – almost –” he tried to assure her. Her hand tightened, slightly, indicating that she’d heard him. The flow of seidr increased slightly, and he refocused gratefully.

It could have been minutes or hours later, but suddenly it was done.

Sigyn’s hand fell away, and there was a soft thump. Loki opened his eyes, but his vision swam. He felt lightheaded, suddenly. He vomited, bracing himself against the ground as he heaved.

“Your Highness,” Heimdall said, and Loki flinched. “It’s just me. Let me help you up. We must go.”

Loki nodded, and the movement made his head spin. He groaned. Heimdall tried to help him to his feet, but his legs wouldn’t support him, so the Gatekeeper wrapped an arm around his waist, almost carrying him to the skiff. He deposited Loki carefully in the bow.

Loki tried to sit up, but his stomach threatened to revolt again, and he changed his mind.

Heimdall laid an unconscious Sigyn down beside him. Loki watched her breathe for a few moments, reassuring himself that she was all right. Then the skiff purred to life, and he closed his eyes. It would not be a long trip, but he would need the rest for what was to come.

~*~

The Path to Utgard was guarded on Jotunheim’s end. Of course it was, Loki thought, staring at the huge spears pointed at them. This close to the capital city of Jotunheim, it was a necessary precaution. One he should have foreseen. But there was nothing he could do about that, now. The Jotnar were a formidable foe. Until he ascertained whether there were any sorcerers among their group, he dare not act.

“We are not here with the army,” Heimdall said, hands raised in the universal gesture of peace. 

They were in a large cavern, lit by bright sunlight from the entrance. But just as Heimdall spoke, thunder roared, and the giants flinched, scowling. 

Loki let out a breath in relief. Thor was still alive, then. There was still time.

“This is His Royal Highness Prince Loki,” Heimdall said, “born of Laufey-King and Farbauti of the Vimur Plains, raised Odinson of Asgard.”

The giants glanced at each other. “How do we know you speak the truth?” one demanded.

Loki let his Aesir skin melt away. He did not particularly like taking his Jotun form, mostly because it made the year-long heat of Asgard almost unbearable. But in the cold of Jotunheim, it was actually quite agreeable. “I am Prince Loki of Asgard,” he said, rising to his feet. He felt a little unsteady, and casually rested a hand on the side of the skiff. “I am here on a mission of peace.”

“Asgard is attacking _us_ ,” said the Jotun.

Loki inclined his head. “A misunderstanding. Let us go, and I will stop this before it goes any further.”

One of the larger giants stepped forward. He towered over their small skiff, older than the rest, with tufts of grey hair poking out of his ears. “All due respect, Princeling, but we would not be doing our duty if we didn't take you into custody. We are being unjustly attacked, and you have delivered yourself into our hands; a royal hostage. If you truly desire peace, I would ask that you surrender quietly.”

Loki considered him. “And you are?”

“Skrymir, Princeling.”

Loki’s eyebrows rose. “The honoured General?” he asked. 

The Jotun bowed his huge head. “Retired, Princeling.”

“Not quite, it seems,” Loki observed. He glanced back at Sigyn, who shook her head slightly. They would not be fighting their way out of this, then. “We will come quietly, Skrymir-General. But in return, I ask that you not delay in bringing us before your King. Our mission is of the utmost urgency.”

“Of course,” Skrymir said. He stepped back, gesturing in one large sweep. “This way.”

They emerged into blinding light; Jotunheim’s two suns glaring off a Realm blanketed in ice and snow. 

Loki blinked, struggling to focus. “Norns,” he muttered, reeling. A hand caught his elbow discreetly, steadying him.

He glanced at Heimdall, who bowed his head. “Apologies, Your Highness,” he murmured.

“No,” Loki said. “Thank you.” He eased down beside Sigyn carefully. “How are you feeling?” he asked.

“Stronger,” she said, quietly. The frost giants were marching close alongside the skiff, but each footstep made the earth tremble; a continuous rumble that almost drowned out Thor’s thunder, in the distance. They wouldn’t be able to hear a whispered conversation. “I’ll be ready.”

Loki looked towards Utgard, on the horizon; an enormous city carved from the ice, with a thick mass of threatening stormclouds overhead. He shivered. So close, and yet… “Helblindi has been waiting for me for centuries. Once I am within his power –”

“You have come as an ambassador for your people,” Heimdall said. “He will not touch you. He could not hope to avoid war, then.” He paused, glancing up at the Jotnar. “Having said that, if proceedings do not go our way, I believe I can cause sufficient distraction to allow you both to escape.”

Sigyn looked alarmed. “What about you?”

“The Crown Prince must be our priority,” Heimdall said.

Loki nodded silently. Heimdall was right. Once Thor saw he was alive and well – once he knew what their sister had done – it would all be over. He just had to get to him before Hela did.

~*~

The first obstacle to their goal became evident almost as soon as they arrived at the Palace. It was an immense structure, made of dense ice, and yet strangely beautiful. Loki had seen pictures, of course, but he felt strangely drawn to it, now he was here.

Skrymir left the skiff to hold a huddled conference with the guards. Loki turned his face up to the sky. It was raining heavily, and they were all soaked through. He wriggled his fingers, letting a little wisp of green seidr drift upwards. 

Skrymir returned to the skiff with a troubled expression. “They will take your request to the court,” he said, “but the King is not present. His brother sits on the throne.”

Loki frowned. “What? Where is Helblindi-King?”

Skrymir shook his head. “I do not know, Your Highness. I apologise, but I must escort you inside. You will be placed under guard until your audience with the Prince is approved.”

Loki inclined his head, making a small gesture with his hand to restrain his companions. They were both well aware of Loki’s abilities with short-range transportation and illusions. If Byleistr kept him waiting, he could escape far easier from a locked room than from out here in the open, under the scrutiny of half-a-dozen palace guards, several curious servants and courtiers, and the soldiers who had brought them here. 

But it proved to be unnecessary. They had hardly stepped foot inside the Palace when there was a loud commotion. 

A Jotun wearing the golden torque of royalty around his neck strode towards them, ignoring the loud protests of the harried group at his heels. 

“Loki!” he cried. “Brother!”

Loki only just had time to register that this was Byleistr-Prince, second-born of Laufey and Farbauti – and that he was a Dom, judging by the garnets embedded in his torque – before there were arms as big as his torso wrapping around him and lifting him off his feet. 

He gasped, struggling, but the giant was far stronger than him. He didn’t even seem to realise Loki was trying to get away.

“ _Loki_ ,” he said again, his voice breaking. Loki realised with a sense of horror that his blood-brother was crying. 

Norns, he thought. How the Fates must have laughed when they gave him his brothers! Bloody sentimental, overly demonstrative _idiots_ –

“Say something!” Byleistr begged, and then hurriedly set him on his feet. “Oh! Was I crushing you, little brother? Are you all right? Did I hurt you?”

“Byleistr-Prince,” Loki said stiffly, bowing. “May I introduce Heimdall, Gatekeeper of the Nine Realms, and Lady Sigyn of Asgard?”

Byleistr’s face fell. “Well met, my lord and lady,” he said, nodding at them. “And my apologies, Prince Loki of Asgard. That was inappropriate. Helblindi’s always scolding me for my impetuosity! But I am just _so pleased_ to meet you at last! I was starting to think Asgard was never going to let you go!”

Loki frowned. “I am here with a single purpose, Byleistr-Prince: to stop this war before it begins. Will you give me your aid?”

Byleistr blinked. “Of course!” he said. “But don’t tell me – is this about Helblindi’s offer? Ymir’s breath! I _knew_ you would find it offensive! I _told_ him! But he was so afraid the whole thing would fall through –”

“ _Princeling_ ,” one of the other Jotun hissed.

Byleistr rolled his eyes, flapping a hand at him. “We are already in the position of weakness, Vitur. Asgard’s entire army lies at our gates; Einherjar and Valkyries. We cannot possibly hope to hold them off before reinforcements arrive from the other city-states. If we have caused offence, honesty is our only option.”

Loki regarded him with the beginnings of respect. “This attack has little to do with the negotiations for my hand,” he said. “Where is Helblindi-King?”

“Princeling,” Vitur warned. “This could be a –”

Byleistr snorted. “A trick? His adopted sister is the Queen of Asgard. She arranged the meeting herself. What purpose could he have in pretending he doesn’t know about it?”

“A meeting?” Loki demanded. “Between Queen Hela and Helblindi-King?”

Byleistr nodded, and Loki’s heart sank. An ambush, indeed, and a convenient patsy. 

“Where?” he asked.

~*~

It was a tunnel, but unlike anything Loki had ever seen before. The ceiling arched high over their heads, rippled and a shining blue, like an enormous wave had curled over and frozen solid. It was incredibly beautiful, and he couldn’t take his eyes off it.

“We’re close,” Byleistr said. He had a full unit of soldiers with him, including a sorcerer-runt, Angrboda. She had muffled their footsteps. “Just around this corner.”

Loki could hear raised voices. The sound of battle. He increased his pace, heart pounding.

“Careful, brother,” Byleistr warned, but Loki ignored him. He rounded the corner to see a wide open cavern, with the bodies of both Jotun and Aesir warriors littering the ground. 

In the centre, Hela and Thor were locked in a fierce battle.

“Helblindi!” Byleistr cried, pushing past Loki, eyes on one of the fallen. His voice caught the combatants’ attention.

Hela met Loki’s eyes, and she didn’t even pause. She whirled under Thor’s swing, and flung two blades in his direction. “LOKI!” Thor cried. Loki ducked, but they weren’t aimed at him. Two Jotun fell silently, already dead. The others roared, charging forward. 

Angrboda hurled a ball of light at Hela. It exploded under her feet, but she moved with the blast, spinning up into the air. She flung more blades, laughing. Thor pushed off the ground to meet her, deflecting one with Mjolnir. It rebounded, embedding deep into the ice. The other blade caught Angrboda in the shoulder. She cried out, falling. 

Heimdall grabbed a sword from one of the Aesir bodies, taking up position to protect her.

Loki glanced at Sigyn. She nodded, seidr dancing on her fingertips. They worked together, bombarding Hela with their combined attacks. 

The last Jotun soldier fell. Hela was frighteningly fast. Thor was only just keeping her at bay, his face red and beaded with sweat. Loki melted part of the ice wall, sending it in a wave over her. She emerged spluttering, but blocked Thor’s swing with her blades up-crossed. Sigyn grew vines from the ground, tangling them around Hela’s feet. She almost tripped. Angry now, she slashed at them. Thor caught her in the stomach with his hammer. Lightning surged over her armour, but she barely reacted, focused on freeing herself.

Loki set off dozens of little explosions in her face, blinding her.

Howling in fury, Hela lashed out with her blades. Thor jerked back, but too late. She sliced a shallow line across his chest. Sigyn turned her blades into flowers. Hela let them fall and loosed more, whirling as she threw. 

Loki dived out of the way. The blade missed him by inches. He rolled, panting. Thor roared in fury, raising Mjolnir. He called down lightning, and it crashed through the ceiling of the cave. Huge splinters of ice crashed to the ground. Loki raised a bubble of protection over himself and Sigyn. 

The lightning that struck his sister would have killed a lesser god. She just laughed, lightning sparking and crackling around her.

“Sigyn,” Loki said. “I think –” 

He cut himself off. His dearest friend lay gurgling blood, one of Hela’s blades lodged in her neck. 

Loki flung himself down beside her. He couldn’t heal her. This was far beyond his capabilities. So – next best thing. A stasis spell. He closed his eyes, muttering the words out loud, fighting the draw on his body. He was exhausted, head aching fiercely, but he couldn’t stop now. Hela would kill them all if she could. 

Golden light shimmered into being around Sigyn.

He staggered to his feet, dizzy with pain. Thor flashed by, almost knocking him over. “Sorry!” he shouted, turning slightly to look over his shoulder.

Hela knocked him out of the air. Thor fell into a tumble, rolling clumsily behind one of the huge splinters of ice.

“This ends now,” Hela snarled, stalking towards him.

Loki made an illusion of himself, as tangible as he could manage. Then he caught Thor’s eye, and turned himself invisible. Thor’s eyes widened. Loki had never revealed that particular gift to him. But he caught on quickly, pulling himself up into a crouch behind the ice. “Don’t do this, Hela!” he called.

“It’s the only way,” Hela said. “I’m sorry, brother, but I did promise our dear Loki that I would kill you first. And I keep my oaths.”

“You made an oath to protect him, as his guardian,” Thor said. “You are his _Dom_. How can you do this? Nothing is worth this!”

Hela shrugged. “He served his purpose, like any good sub. But I have no more use for him. Or for you. But you can content yourself that your deaths will make possible the greatest empire the universe has ever known.”

“You're insane,” Loki made his double say.

She glanced at it, and casually threw two blades. The double cried out, pinned to the wall by arm and shoulder. Blood began to seep through his clothes.

Loki staggered over to his brother, ducking down behind the ice. He slipped a hand into Thor’s. Thor startled a little, but then squeezed his hand back, hard. “ _Trust me_ ,” Loki mouthed, lips against Thor's ear. “ _Hit her again_.”

“Hiding won't do you any good, Thor,” Hela said. “Do you really want your last moments to be that of a coward?” She didn't wait for a reply, shooting her blades at weak points in the ice. It exploded. Thor wrapped himself around Loki. 

Loki shoved him off frantically, seizing Mjolnir’s handle and shaking it pointedly. 

Thor pulled away, thrusting Mjolnir in the air. 

Hela threw her blades, and Loki used the electricity building in the air to turn them aside. Whirling, Hela threw a blade at Loki's double. It buried itself in his heart.

Loki sucked in a breath. Thor's eyes widened. With a bellow of rage, he brought the lightning down. Loki chanted a spell, and Hela's armour flipped inside-out. The lightning hit her as she was turning.

She convulsed, screaming.

Thor almost let the lightning discharge in his surprise. “ _Hold it_!” Loki yelled, desperately.

It was over in seconds. Hela fell with a thump. A horrible smell of burning filled the air.

Loki’s heart stopped, for a moment. But she was still alive, gasping oddly, her eyes open and staring. Loki let his double fade away, and made himself visible again.

“Loki!” Thor said, grabbing him up in a fierce hug. “Oh Norns, _Loki_. I got your warning, just in time. She killed _everyone_ , she tried to destroy Mjolnir, but – you saved my _life_. How did you know? Are you all right? Did they hurt you?”

“I’m fine,” Loki said, just as his knees buckled. Thor tightened his grip, and Loki let him support his weight. There was a rushing sound in his ears, and he couldn’t tear his gaze from their sister. “Sigyn?” he said.

“Your spell holds, Your Highness,” Heimdall said. “And Skrymir-General leads a party of soldiers and healers down the tunnel as we speak.”

Thor frowned. “We should go.”

“No,” Loki said. “Hela.” She turned her eyes to him with an obvious effort, but didn't speak. A lump formed in Loki's throat. “I’m sorry,” he said. “I’m so sorry.”

“Don’t apologise,” Thor said, flabbergasted. “She tried to _kill_ you. She thought she did! Norns, Hela!” His voice broke. “How could you do this? _Why_? Your own people, your shieldmaidens – your _kin_ – and for what?”

“For war,” Loki said. “For the power death gives her.”

“So she said,” Thor said, grimly. He turned Loki away from her. “Loki, sweetheart, what happened?” he asked, urgently. “Why did the Jotnar bring you here?”

“I believe I can answer that,” a voice said.

Thor jerked around, falling into a battle stance again. Loki found himself tucked protectively against his side, and strained to see past his overprotective brother. Byleistr was dissolving a wall of ice around himself and a fallen warrior. He’d cleverly disguised it; Loki hadn’t even realised it was there. 

“Who are you?” Thor demanded.

“Byleistr-Prince of Jotunheim,” Byleistr said, with a short bow. “I was the one who called for aid. They should be arriving shortly.”

Loki relaxed. Thor did not. “Reinforcements will not save you from my wrath, if it was you who took my brother, Byleistr-Prince,” he said, furiously. 

“What?” Byleistr blinked. “No – I didn’t – he came to _us_!”

“Thor,” Loki said. Now that the adrenaline was wearing off, he was beginning to feel quite faint. He realised he was leaning rather heavily against his brother's chest. “I think I need to lie down.”

Thor swore, dropping Mjolnir without a second thought. “Easy, sweetheart,” he said. He helped Loki down where they stood, easing him onto the icy ground. Loki shivered, and instinctively turned into his Jotun form.

It was too much. The room darkened, and he lost his grip on consciousness.


	7. Chapter 7

Loki became aware of Thor's voice, first. He frowned, struggling to wake. 

“Hush, brother,” Thor murmured, in his ear. “You’re all right. You’re safe, I promise.” Loki turned towards him instinctively, and large, familiar hands touched his face, his shoulder, gently pressing him down. Loki opened his eyes. “You’re awake,” Thor said. There were dark shadows under his eyes, and his beard was unkempt. But he looked delighted, and a warm feeling filled Loki’s chest. 

“Where am I?” he asked hoarsely, looking around. He was in a vast room made of ice, lying on a bed clearly meant for a giant, and swathed in furs. He stared up at Thor. “Are we still on Jotunheim?”

“Byleistr-Prince offered his hospitality,” Thor said.

Loki blinked. His memories were a little hazy, but – “You were threatening him with your wrath, last I remember.”

Thor had the grace to look sheepish, at least. “I thought it was the Jotnar who abducted you. I'm so sorry, Loki. I had no idea you were still on Asgard. I didn't even _look_. I just _assumed_ –"

“I imagine the evidence was quite compelling,” Loki said.

Thor grasped his hand, squeezing it tightly. “I was _so scared_ , brother. After everything you’ve been through – the thought of Helblindi getting his hands on you was _unbearable_.” His face twisted with guilt. “And still I failed you. I _left_ you; ran off to war, leaving you to _Tyr_ –”

“I killed him,” Loki said, without remorse.

Thor nodded. “I know,” he said, simply. “Heimdall told me everything. The body was recovered yesterday. I’m so sorry I wasn’t there, Loki. I’m so sorry you had to go through that alone.”

“It's not your fault,” Loki told him. He frowned. “How long have I –”

“Three days,” Thor said, and Loki couldn’t help doing the math. Two days before Mimir’s Path closed for another ten years. “The healers thought it best to put you in an induced coma, to allow you to heal. Eir agreed; she’s here, too. It was too dangerous to take you back to Asgard. You had a concussion, and you put your body under terrible strain, opening the Path to Utgard. I didn’t even know that was _possible_. Your seidr was almost completely drained. One more spell, and you might have died.”

Loki wasn’t surprised. If it hadn’t been for – “Sigyn!” he gasped, jerking upright.

“Easy, brother,” Thor chided him. “Sigyn’s recovering well. It will be several more days before she is fit to travel by the Bifrost, but Eir is confident she’s past the worst of it. Bragi hasn’t left her side.”

He bundled together some of the furs, building them up behind Loki so he could rest back.

Loki watched him. “Hela?”

Thor shook his head silently.

“So I killed her,” Loki said, numbly. “I killed my sister. My _Dom_.”

“She didn’t deserve the title,” Thor said, fiercely. “Sister or Dom. She didn’t deserve _you_ , Loki. She used you, and then betrayed you in the worst possible way.”

Loki nodded. “I know,” he said. “It’s my Dom’s responsibility to look after me.”

Thor’s lips pressed together, mingled pride and sorrow on his face. “Yes, it is,” he agreed. He raised Loki’s hand to his lips, kissing it tenderly. “I hope you feel that my own failings in that regard were redressed, at least in part, by stopping her.”

Loki rolled his eyes. “Yes, because your lightning was working so well before I flipped her armour.”

Thor huffed, smiling. “It took the sorcerers hours to figure out what you did,” he admitted. “How did you know she had non-conductive material on the inside?”

Loki shrugged. “You were giving her everything you had. No god could withstand that kind of elemental power; not even Hela. And she had been planning this for – centuries, perhaps. She wanted her claim to the throne undisputed, and she wanted war. You were the greatest threat to both. It made sense that she would have been prepared. When I realised the lightning was going _over_ her armour into the ground, I knew what I needed to do.”

“She was insane,” Thor said, grimly. “I had no interest in the throne.”

“I know,” Loki said. Privately, he had always mourned the fact that their positions had not been reversed. If he’d been the one second in line to the throne, and a Dom – Hela might really have had something to fear, then. 

“She underestimated the wrong brother,” Thor agreed, reading his mind again.

“I offered to fight for her,” Loki said. “I offered to show her what I could do. I think she might have known I was a seidmadr already. But she clearly didn’t believe I was capable of anything more than party tricks.”

“That was her mistake,” Thor said. He paused, studying Loki with a frown. “Would you really have joined her?”

“I couldn’t let her kill you,” Loki said. Which wasn’t quite an answer, and Thor knew it. But it was the best he could give, and he knew his brother would understand. He always did.

Thor nodded slowly. “Thank you, brother,” he said, quietly.

“So,” Loki said. “What now? We killed the Queen of Asgard. Are we under arrest?”

“No,” Thor said. “Heimdall returned to Asgard yesterday to give his report to the Council. With his testimony about her crimes against you, and the murders of our people and the Jotnar during banner talks – they’ve ruled it self-defence. Hela will be remembered as a war criminal, and I will be crowned King of Asgard.”

“Oh,” Loki breathed. “I’m sorry.” Thor was incurably honest, blunt to a fault, and had never shown the slightest interest in politics. He’d never wanted the throne, and Odin had never considered giving it to him. This – would change _everything_.

“It’s not your fault,” Thor said. “None of this is.”

“And Byleistr-Prince? He’s willing to let us go, even after we attacked them without provocation?”

Thor looked bemused. “Actually, the royal family is not quite what I expected. Helblindi and Byleistr have been at your bedside for most of the last three days. They’re outside right now, with Eir. I just – wanted it to be us, when you woke up.”

Loki stared at him, alarmed. “Helblindi is _alive_?”

“Yes,” Thor said. “He was gravely injured, but Byleistr protected him, and gave him rudimentary first aid until the healers arrived. He left his bed that very night, to see you.”

“Thor,” Loki said, his hands shaking. “What the fuck is _wrong_ with you?” 

Maybe his brother had been more badly injured in the battle with Hela than he’d realised. A head injury, perhaps; worse than Loki’s. It was the only explanation. Unless… unless he’d changed his mind, and he didn’t want Loki anymore? Or perhaps he’d reexamined his priorities in the light of his impending coronation. Would he sacrifice Loki, if it was for the sake of the Realm?

“… It’s all right,” Thor said. “Loki, are you listening to me? I will not have a treaty with Jotunheim dependent upon your submission to a foreign power. You fought for the right to choose your own fate, and I will honour that.”

Loki breathed a little easier. But, “You want to put me on my knees, too,” he pointed out.

“Yes,” Thor said, frankly. “My body aches with longing for yours. But my heart is slave to yours, and I would have you happy, Loki. Whatever that means for us.”

“And Helblindi?” Loki asked. “Are you so sure he will hold to the laws of hospitality, when I am within his grasp? He has wanted me for so long…”

Mysteriously, Thor just smiled. “Why don’t I let him answer that himself?”

~*~

Thor went to open the door, and Loki brought his Aesir skin to the surface quickly, cursing his brother inwardly. _Impetuous, trusting fool_ –

He refused to meet his blood-brothers without making his loyalties perfectly clear. He was a Prince of Asgard, first and foremost. The Realm Eternal was his home, no matter what Odin All-Father and Helblindi-King might have wanted.

He did not get out of the bed, even though a part of him fluttered anxiously at the thought of Helblindi seeing him so vulnerable. But the King had sat vigil over him while he was unconscious, according to Thor, and if he got up, he would have to make the appropriate bow. He refused to do that.

Two giants entered the room. One was Byleistr, wearing his golden torque studded with garnets. The other had identical kin-lines on his forehead – Loki’s kin-lines – but he wore a torque with emeralds.

Loki frowned. This could not be the King.

“His Royal Highness, Prince Loki,” Thor said, “meet His Majesty Helblindi-King of Jotunheim.”

Loki inclined his head. “Your Majesty,” he said, puzzled.

“Prince Loki,” Helblindi said. He was slightly taller than Byleistr, his face more serious; weighed down, perhaps, by the cares of the crown. “Well met, brother. I hope you’re feeling better?”

“I am,” Loki said, simply.

Helblindi waved a hand at the chair Thor had been perched on. “May I?”

Loki’s heart began to thump unpleasantly, but he nodded. Thor had circled the bed, and was already climbing on to sit next to him. He did not touch Loki, but he rested his hand close to his thigh. It was a statement, and one which Loki found he did not entirely mind. Not with the giant who wanted to rape and own him in the room.

“It is good to meet you at last, Loki,” Helblindi said, gravely, looking down at him. Even seated, he towered over the bed. “We have waited so long for this moment, I was beginning to fear it would never come.”

Byleistr had said something similar, Loki remembered. “Indeed,” he said, evenly. “You were disappointed when the engagement was called off, I take it.”

“Immeasurably,” Helblindi said, with feeling. “It was our sire Laufey-King’s dearest wish to bring you home, brother, by whatever means possible.”

Loki blinked. “Oh?”

“Obviously the arrangement was not ideal,” Helblindi said, “but it was all the All-Father offered us. And our sire was so desperate to have you home.” His dark red eyes glistened slightly. “I only wish he could have lived to see you again. You were so precious to us. So tiny, and yet you held so much beauty and power in that little body. So like our dam, Farbauti. You have his eyes, you know. And his kin-lines on your hands. Byleistr and I didn’t inherit his lines.”

“I don’t remember our dam,” Byleistr offered. “I was too young when he died. But Hel says he was beautiful. Like you. Your _real_ form, at least.”

“Byleistr-Prince,” Helblindi snapped, without looking at him.

Byleistr pouted, but withdrew slightly, crossing his arms over his chest. 

“I grew up like this,” Loki said, lifting a hand to inspect the pale skin. “Like my father and siblings.”

“We understand,” Helblindi said, bowing his head slightly. “We do not seek to change you, Loki, Prince of Asgard. Only to get to know you, with your permission.”

Loki considered him. “You would have me believe you don’t want to claim me,” he said, slowly.

“I never did,” Helblindi assured him. “We only wanted you home.”

“The All-Father _stole_ you,” Byleistr said, forcefully. “Laufey-King had no choice but to stand by the terms of Odin Warmongerer’s treaty, with you in Asgard’s possession. But you’re not part of the treaty anymore.”

“Indeed,” Helblindi said. He glanced at Thor. “For all that the events of the past week have been regrettable, it has at least given your brother and I the opportunity to speak frankly. We are in full agreement that the treaty our fathers forged should be laid to rest with them.”

“Indeed?” Loki said, raising his eyebrows at Thor.

His brother smiled. “Told you so,” he said.

Loki used his seidr to pinch Thor in the nether regions. He jumped and swore, and then had to apologise to the Jotnar, flushing bright red. 

Loki chuckled.

“You really are brothers,” Byleistr said, a note of wistfulness in his voice.

“We’re more than brothers,” Thor said, gently. “I can’t even begin to imagine your pain, Laufeysons. I have had the joy of growing up alongside him, and my love for him – is more than words can express. I would claim him this very moment, if he would have me. The thought of losing him… tears my soul apart.”

Loki stared at him, stunned.

“Thor Odinson assures me that his intentions towards you are pure, but that you are also free to refuse him,” Helblindi said. “Given the Aesir propensity for treating their subs as cattle, however – I would like to offer you sanctuary on Jotunheim. Or, if you prefer not to return to your homeworld, the funds and support to leave Asgard for another Realm; to set up independently, if that is your wish. Our sire left you a sizeable inheritance, and it is yours now, if you want it.”

“Unclaimed subs can’t set up independently,” Loki said, automatically.

“On Jotunheim they can,” Thor said. He looked pained, but he met Loki’s eyes steadily. “They can live alone. Work, without the permission of a parental Dom. Own property, and vote in referendums.”

Loki’s eyes narrowed. “That can’t be true.”

Thor laughed, and it cracked a little. “You never did pay attention when our lessons turned to gender roles.”

“We don’t believe our secondary gender has any bearing on our abilities,” Helblindi said. “Indeed, quite the opposite.” He touched the torque around his neck.

Loki felt his eyes widen. “You’re a _switch_?”

“No,” Helblindi said. “I’m a sub, Loki. Like you.”

“But –”

“Why have I masqueraded as a Dom, all these years? Simply put, because Odin All-Father would never have given you back to us, if he knew I was a sub. It was just fortunate he never met me during the war, because I had long come into my dynamic by the time he took you from us.”

“You _fought_?”

Helblindi nodded. “It is very different here, brother. Please, consider my offer. We do not expect anything in return. You can live your life here on Jotunheim without ever seeing Byleistr or I again, if that is your wish. That is my oath, as a Laufeyson and your elder brother.”

Byleistr made a soft noise in his throat, but Helblindi lifted a hand, quelling his protest.

Loki stared at him. The implications were not lost on him. If he trusted Helblindi’s word, he could be free without leaving the Nine Realms. _Truly_ free; not always on the run, looking over his shoulder. He could make his own choices. Live his own life.

“That is a very generous offer, Helblindi-King,” he managed. “Will you allow me time to think on it?”

“All the time in the world,” Helblindi assured him. “There is no expiry date, brother. You will always be welcome here.”

“And if you need help separating yourself from the Aesir –” Byleistr began, pointedly.

Thor stiffened. “He is not my prisoner.”

“No, I’m not,” Loki agreed, immediately, looking at his blood-brothers. “Thor would never force me to do anything I didn’t want to do. If I choose to accept your offer, he will let me go.”

Even as he said it, he realised it was true. Thor did not seek to keep him in a cage. He wanted a relationship, but he was leaving the choice in Loki’s hands. It was _his choice_ , which meant – he was already free.

“I appreciate your kindness and hospitality, Helblindi-King,” he said, formally. “And your aid in saving my brother from Hela, Byleistr-Prince. I cannot thank either of you enough. I would very much like to return to Jotunheim in the future, to get to know you both as my brothers, and to learn more about our culture, and people. But for now – for now, I want to go home.”

~*~

The Aesir army had already departed for Asgard. Thor had remained on Jotunheim with only a small, personal guard, and his closest compatriots, Sif and the Warriors Three. Together with Healer Eir, they returned to the Bifrost, leaving Sigyn and Bragi behind. Helblindi-King had personally assured Loki that the two were under his protection, and the care of the best healers his Realm had to offer.

Eir was accompanying them for Loki's sake, but she would travel back to Jotunheim to clear Sigyn for travel in a few days.

Loki had visited her before they left. She had a terrible scar, and her voice was rough, but she seemed in good spirits.

She smiled widely when she saw him. “Your Highness! It’s so good to see you! Please excuse me for not rising.”

Loki took her hand, and pressed a heartfelt kiss to it. Sigyn was struck silent. She glanced at her Dom, and Loki followed her gaze. 

“My apologies, Lord Bragi,” he said. “For –” he waved at her hand, “and for dragging her along on such a dangerous mission.”

Bragi shook his head. “From what I understand, Your Highness, if you had not, we might be at war right now,” he said earnestly. “Not to mention, you saved her _life_. I owe you my eternal gratitude.” He bowed, low; the correct distance to show respect for a royal Dom. Not a sub. Not _Loki_.

“She saved mine,” Loki said, inclining his head in return. He found himself wondering if it were possible for things to change on Asgard. If Thor might be amenable to making those changes, when he was crowned King.

If he went to Midgard, or took Helblindi up on his offer, he might never know.

So it was that on the day Mimir’s Path closed, Loki found himself contemplating the bag he’d packed for his first escape. It had been brought back to the Palace with Tyr’s body, but as far as he knew, no one had investigated the contents. Or at least, if they had, no one had seen fit to inform Thor.

His brother was busy with preparations for the coronation, and learning what it meant to sit on the throne of the most powerful Realm in the Nine. 

Loki, meanwhile, had reinserted himself into the court with relative ease; they had been given only the barest of facts of his abduction and subsequent events, and Doms and subs alike were desperate for the juicy details only Loki could provide. He doled out tidbits – some lies, some truths wrapped in half-truths – and watched the court explode.

It was the merest afternoon’s work to discover what Hela’s staunchest supporters were thinking. Planning.

Peculiarly, the only thing everyone seemed to agree upon was that Thor was in love with Loki. Whatever they’d seen while Loki had been in that warehouse – not even his best efforts could disabuse them of the notion. He gave it up quickly, and concentrated on foiling the plot to depose Thor.

There was some support for Tyr’s second, Baldr. He was young, but much loved among the court and the general population. He was also of royal descent, being the grandson of Odin’s younger brother, Vili.

Fortunately, he was not easily manipulated. So while Hela’s supporters were working fruitlessly on the young prince, Loki carefully and systematically dismantled their power base from the ground up.

A knock sounded at his door, and he hurriedly stuffed his bag behind the couch.

He opened the door to find Thor on the other side. 

The shadows under his brother’s eyes had deepened in the past few days, and Loki frowned. Thor always threw himself headfirst into his commitments, without thought or care for himself. With the entire Nine Realms under his purview – Loki would have to work _very_ hard to make sure his brother didn’t burn himself out.

If he stayed, of course.

“Thor,” he said.

“Loki.”

“Come in,” Loki said, stepping back.

“I see you’ve tidied up,” Thor said, as he wandered over to the fireplace. He collapsed in an armchair, yawning. “Norns. I’m exhausted.”

“You should be in bed,” Loki agreed. “Why are you here?”

Thor gave him a hurt look. “I’ve missed you, brother. We’ve barely spoken since we returned to Asgard.”

Loki shrugged. “You’ve been otherwise occupied, and rightfully so.”

“As have you,” Thor said. “I don’t suppose you know why Lords Hoenir and Ulr are suddenly persona non grata at court? No one will tell me anything.”

“No?” Loki said. He carefully straddled his brother, settling in his lap. Thor gaped up at him, and Loki nudged his mouth gently closed with a finger. “We’ll have to work on that,” he mused. “You shouldn’t be completely reliant on me for information about the goings-on in your own court.”

Thor sighed. His hands came to rest on Loki’s hips, just holding him. “I never wanted this.”

“We must do our best with the lot we are given,” Loki said. “You will be a great King, Thor.”

“You think so?” Thor asked, hopefully.

Loki rolled his eyes. “Don’t fish for compliments, brother.”

“My apologies,” Thor said, meekly. “But, you know, there is one silver lining to this whole mess. According to our laws, I am your guardian Dom now. We don’t need anyone’s permission to be together. I can name you King-Consort at my coronation, if you’ll have me.”

Loki froze. “You would marry me?”

“Claim, collar and marry,” Thor vowed. “I want you to stay, Loki. I want you to be mine in every possible way, and I want to be yours. I promise I won't pressure you in any way; it’s entirely up to you what you do. I just want you to know – how very much I love you.”

“Enough to fill the oceans of a thousand worlds, and still overflow,” Loki murmured, touching Thor’s face with his fingertips. “Enough to let me go, if I so desire.”

It wasn’t a question, but Thor nodded, swallowing.

Loki cupped his face in his hands. “Make love to me?” he asked.

Thor’s breath hitched. “Loki…”

“I want to know how it’s supposed to be,” Loki said. He thought about the bag behind the couch, just five feet away, and then carefully put it out of his mind. There was time yet to make up his mind. If Helblindi was to be believed, a lifetime. It didn’t have to be tonight.

He circled his hips, grinding down deliberately into Thor's crotch. 

“Fuck!” Thor gasped. “Fuck, yes, all right. How is it you never cease to amaze me, brother? Your strength – your ability to _trust_ , after everything –”

“I trust _you_ ,” Loki corrected him, “because you’ve earned my trust, and you keep earning it, every day.”

Thor broke into a wide smile. “Every day,” he agreed, a promise in his voice.

Loki rolled his eyes. “All right, you sentimental fool. Stop talking and kiss me.”

Thor threaded his fingers into Loki's hair, drawing him down to meet his lips, and it was just like Loki remembered. Soft but firm, Thor's tongue sending helpless shivers down his spine. He moaned, opening his mouth for more, and Thor gave it to him, licking into his mouth, his other hand stroking down Loki's side. 

He didn't go any further, and when they parted to breathe, he said, “I want you to take me, brother.”

Loki stared at him. “What?”

Thor looked nervous, but determined. “I think this way might be easier. I want you to see that being on the bottom can be good.”

“But,” Loki said, stymied, “isn't it the sub’s –"

Thor stopped him with another kiss. “I think,” he said, with a tender smile to soften the sting, “that we should agree that your knowledge in this particular area is distinctly lacking, and you should just defer to me. Or, you know, Sigyn, or Sif, or – really just about anyone else in the Nine Realms, actually.”

Loki scowled at him. “Your _seduction_ technique is distinctly lacking,” he retorted.

Thor blinked. “Is that a no?”

Loki’s scowl deepened. “You know it’s not.”

Thor just smiled, and stood, hoisting Loki in the air. Loki yelped, wrapping his arms and legs around his brother.

Thor took him into his bedroom, and set him down. “On your knees, sweetheart,” he said, and a flush went from the roots of Loki's hair all the way to his toes. 

Slowly, eyes fixed on Thor's, he lowered himself to his knees. 

“Okay?” Thor asked, and Loki nodded. “Safeword?”

“Excuse me?” Loki said, bristling. “You _know_ –”

“It’s not a trick question,” Thor interrupted, gently. “I’m not trying to embarrass you. You can change it, if you want. I just want to make sure we’re both on the same page.”

Loki did, in fact, consider changing it for a moment, just to be contrary. But there was no word more safe than Mjolnir, in his mind, bar Thor. And he could not use his brother’s name. “Fine,” he said. “Mjolnir.”

Thor smiled, eyes crinkling. “Mjolnir,” he agreed. He cupped Loki’s cheek in his hand, tender and caressing. His expression turned contemplative.

Loki narrowed his eyes. “Thor?”

His brother hesitated, and then reached into his pocket, pulling out a soft strip of cotton. He held it out hopefully, a little shy. “Will you wear my collar, Loki? Just – just for tonight? No seidr-dampening, I promise.”

Loki stared at the collar. He couldn’t help remembering Tyr choking him, the leather gouging into his skin. 

But Thor was not Tyr. He was not Odin, or Hela. His collar was not a yoke. It did not mean pain, and betrayal. On the contrary; it was a symbol of protection, and care, and love. It was a symbol of trust.

Did he want that around his neck? To feel Thor’s love for him with every breath, and know that his brother would rather cut off his own hand than hurt him the way Tyr had?

“Just for tonight?” he checked, and Thor nodded quickly. Loki took a deep breath. “All right,” he agreed, and bowed his head. 

“Norns,” Thor breathed. “Thank you, baby. _Thank_ you.” 

He crouched down, hands trembling as he brushed Loki’s hair to one side and fastened the collar around his neck. He pressed a kiss to Loki’s neck, just over the thin cotton, and Loki shivered.

Thor stood again. “All right. Undress me, sweetheart.” Loki started to lift his hands to Thor's belt, but Thor shook his head. “No. With your seidr. I want to know you could rip my heart out at any moment, and yet you're choosing to use it to please me. To please us both.”

Loki swallowed, his mouth suddenly bone-dry, arousal prickling over his skin. _Trust_ , he thought, _went both ways_. And that was what Thor had been telling him all along. Thor’s heart was in his hands, literally and metaphorically.

He did as his brother asked, vanishing their clothes one by one, enjoying each familiar expanse of golden skin as it was revealed.

Thor threw himself on the bed, beckoning Loki with a finger and a grin. “I prepared myself earlier,” he said.

“Presumptuous,” Loki remarked, but the idea of it, of Thor _preparing_ himself, for him – suddenly he was achingly hard, and he wanted nothing more than to touch himself.

“Ah, ah,” Thor chided him. “That's for me, baby. You aren't going to come until I tell you to.” 

Loki couldn't prevent a whimper at that, and Thor smiled, spreading his legs in invitation. 

Loki felt his heart begin to race.

It was like nothing he had ever experienced before. The tight slickness of Thor's body as he sank in, holding him like a vice. The way Thor cupped his neck as he thrust, helplessly, heart in his eyes as he gazed up at Loki. The way he surrendered to each thrust, crying out Loki's name, commanding him to go faster, to change his angle, harder, keep going, just – _there, yes, there_. He babbled the praise he'd given Loki last time; words that were seared into his memory – that he was a good boy, that Thor loved him, that he was doing _so well_ , and he wasn't going to come until Thor did, he was going to keep going until Thor was done, because he was such a good boy, incredible, so _good_ , and now, yes – _yes_ – “Come, Loki!” Thor shouted. “Come!”

And he did.

It was only later, much later, that Loki realised he'd slipped into sub-space sometime while fucking his brother.

“Hey there,” Thor said, tenderly, stroking his hair away from his face. “You back with me?”

Loki nodded. He remembered Thor bathing them both and sharing one of Idunn's apples with him, but only distantly, through what felt like a dense fog of peace and contentment.

Thor’s fingers drifted down to the collar, and found the clasp. Loki slapped a hand over his involuntarily, stilling him. Thor frowned, meeting his eyes. “Loki?”

“You said I could have it for the night,” Loki said. “The night’s not over.”

Thor began to smile. “No, it’s not,” he said. “Are you feeling all right?”

“Yes,” Loki sighed, stretching. He was sore, but only in the best conceivable way, and he felt satiated in a way he'd never even known was possible.

“Yes, what?” Thor teased.

Loki’s eyes had begun to slip closed, and Thor looked on the verge of sleep himself. But this was important. “Brother,” he said. “King. Beloved. Dom. Fiancé.”

Thor sucked in a breath. “Loki?” he said, eyes very wide. “Are you saying –”

“Yes,” Loki said. “Yes to all of it. I'm choosing you.”

Thor's eyes filled with tears, and he pressed Loki down into the mattress, kissing him desperately, messily, _filthily_ , as if he could fill Loki with his love the same way his tongue filled his mouth.

Loki could admit, if only to himself, that it might be working.

He waited until Thor was snoring in his ear before he used his seidr to unpack his bag. Most of his belongings, he just transported discreetly back to their proper places. 

The last item, however, required more care. He re-sized the painting, and then floated it back into its frame. He set it back on the wall carefully, not wanting to wake his brother with his ridiculous sentimentality.

But Thor’s snoring had stopped, and he threw an arm over Loki's waist. “Caterpillar’s got its wings,” he mumbled, slightly incoherent.

But Loki understood. And he smiled.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so very, very much to everyone who has left comments and kudos on this fic! I am always SO excited and deeply appreciative of every single one. I would love to hear what you thought of it!! Thank you again! xxx


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